


Choices we make

by MiaCousland



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: A bastard prince, A single rose, Alistair's Mother's amulet, Avowed revenge, Baser instincts, Brecilian Forest, Circle of Magi, Confessions of a sexual kind, Darkspawn, Dirty Talk, Dragon Age Quest: The Landsmeet, Drunken Confessions, F/M, Family Drama, Father-Daughter Relationship, First Kiss, First Time, Fledgling romance, Foreshadowing, Gen, Giant Spiders, Half-naked Alistair, Heterosexual Sex, Implied/Referenced Blow Jobs, Jewelry, Kinloch Hold, Morning Sex, Morrigan smiling, Nightmares, Nimble minx, Passionate kisses, Redcliffe, Repressed Memories, Sex, Surprise support, Tender Sex, The Pearl, Truth Revealed, Wall Sex, engagement ring - Freeform, proposal
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2016-06-04
Packaged: 2018-02-26 05:31:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 59,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2639912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiaCousland/pseuds/MiaCousland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A retelling of the Origins storyline.  This is a story of the beginnings of Mia and Alistair's relationship and the choices that they make along the way, taking in some scenes that are referenced but never discussed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> I'm well aware that many, *many* people will have done this before me, but I love the stories and wanted to write them down myself. I love these characters so much. Playing through it, I was always fascinated by the little details that happened and my mind would ponder the backstories to some of these moments that are mentioned but never discussed. That's what a lot of these stories will be about. Feedback always welcome!

_My past_  
 _Our present_  
 _Our future_

_From this day forward, until the end of our days._  
 _Together, always._

 

 

* * *

 

This was humiliating.  Searching round a camp for some nobody when I had more important things to do.  I knew I should be looking for something, and it was important too.  There was a dull ache in my head telling me that, yes.  I paused on the bridge that spanned the wide ravine.  My brow furrowed as my head lifted to gaze upon the white walls of Ostagar.  It was an utterly phenomenal sight to behold and the might made me shiver with awe.  Flying buttresses cascaded down the chasm, like a waterfall of power.  The Tevinter Imperium must have been mighty indeed to engineer such a wonder and smite it on the hilltop.  The sun glinted in my eye as I turned and looked up to the tower behind me on the other side of the gorge, and I lifted my hand to shield from the flare.  As we had travelled from ... I forget where from, but as Duncan and I had travelled, he had told me all about the history of the place.  I had never seen it being from ... being from ... no, I couldn't remember.  I paused and my eyes fell to the floor, my brow furrowing in confusion.  Try as I might, nothing was coming to mind.  I saw a young man with a beard but nothing else.  He was handsome and I felt a swell of love for him but nothing more.  No name, nothing.  Puzzled, I resolved that I would ask Duncan later.

I left gazing at the faded beauty that was Ostagar and travelled along the bridge, being careful to avoid the fissures that appeared at intervals along its sides.  Either from cannonfire or from the ages and the elements, I did not know but I avoided them anyway.  I had not the qualms that some others had about heights - indeed, the bridge had quite a drop on it - but I still did not want to fall.  Somehow, being up high made me safe, almost like being at home.  Home.  That word meant something but what?  I shook my head briefly and carried on.  I had a job to do; look around the camp, find the man called Alistair and then the other recruits.  He was to help me with the next step of my Joining.  Duncan had not furnished me with any details, remaining frustratingly elusive when I tried to question him.

_'  ... Alistair ... sounds like a name for someone intelligent ... that mage maybe? ... mmm, maybe not ... I'll try Duncan's tent first ...'_

"Excuse me," I called out to a guard at the other end of the bridge, "where is Duncan's tent?"  
"Not far.  It's straight ahead, just past the royal encampment.  Most of your fellows are in the valley, but the recruits seem to be staying up here for now." he replied in a friendly manner.  
"Okay, thank you.  Do you know where I can find a man called Alistair?"  
"Alistair?  No, sorry.  You must be the Grey Warden that Duncan brought. Can I help with anything else?"  
"No, thank you."

He took up his post again and I carried on, under mighty statues of warriors fashioned from stone and into the camp proper.  As I turned the corner, I confess I was disappointed.  Not with the fortress itself - the soaring and delapidated towers mingled majestically with tall pine trees that grew around the ruins as naturally as if the Maker himself had willed it so.  I was concerned with the number of troops.  If the guard was right, and I prayed he was, then there needed to be many,  _many_  more soldiers than I saw now.  The darkspawn grew in numbers untold but I was afraid that however many we had prepared for, then there would be too many to effectively engage with.

Templars guarded an enclave of purple tents and beyond I could see mages athletically commanding the flow of magic.  I was sensible enough to leave those mysterious folk well enough alone.  I did not need power from the Fade to help me in battle; my two blades felt comfortably close as they sat in the holster on my back.  I had a healthy respect for mages and did not need to engage any closer.  Spying the blue and yellow of King Cailan's banner, I headed that way determined to find Duncan's tent and serve my purpose.  A need to repay the Wardens.  Yes, the more I thought about it, something was calling me onwards to join and repay their bravery, or Duncan's more specifically.  More holes in my memory that could be explained by talking to him.

Standing in the shade of the trees, I turned around as I head a bustle at a nearby tent.  A guard stood on duty.  Maybe this was Duncan's tent.  He had seemed very friendly with the King when they had talked not moments ago.  It was feasible that his tent would be pitched nearby.  It was a little large and opulent but Duncan was the leader of the Grey Wardens, a mighty fighting force from what I could gather.  This tent would fit that station.

"You approach the tent of Teyrn Loghain.  State your business." called the guard fiercely.

Loghain.  That name was known to me.  In my mind, I could see someone called that talking to a slightly older man, bearded once again but kindly looking.  There were only flashes but it was enough to know that I was acquainted with the man.

"Is the Teyrn inside?  What's he doing?"  
"I don't think I'm going to be explaining that to someone like you, new recruit.  Now run along."

Dropping my eyes to the floor at the snarl in his voice, I meekly moved along.  I did not want to disturb the man.  Maybe I had worked in a castle and seen him talking to someone once.  Damn these holes in my memory!  Why couldn't I remember?  As I moved away, I could see Duncan standing staring into a fire.  He looked forlornly at the flames.  As I walked up, he looked up from his memories and smiled wistfully at me.  

"Cailan was busy temporarily.  Have you found Alistair yet?"  
"No, not yet."  
"I saw him heading past the quartermaster's stores.  You may be able to find him up there." he stated as he pointed out what looked like the remains of a great hall, or cathedral.  "Please hurry.  The quicker you find him, the quicker we may begin the necessary preparations for the Joining."  
"Yes, Messere."

I moved off right away, straight in the direction he had told me.  A twitch to follow orders ran through my head.  It wasn't so much of a twitch but a compulsion.  A ghost memory from long ago that was telling me to follow his orders.  

... _Darling, go with Duncan_...

A shiver ran up my spine as a voice whispered in my ear.  It must have been the winds, it couldn't have been anything else.  Could it?  It was very, hauntingly, painfully familiar, that voice.  My heart started to race and I came to a halt.  This voice, the pain, agony.  My stomach felt like a yawning chasm, my heart gone.  This voice - it had caused that.  It had made me feel that well of pain.  No, I could not bear to think of it.  There was no place deep enough but I buried it far within me, or tried to.  If I let it out, it had the real possibility to break my soul.  I could not feel that way.  I had a job to do.  I didn't know who that voice was but it was interfering.  Gritting my teeth, I carried on, evading the gnawing inside of me and pushing it away.

A man stood beside crates and boxes, and a table strewn with goods.  The quartermaster, I assumed.  A broad man with a bald head and large sideburns, he called out to me as I passed.

"Need any supplies?" came the friendly cry.  
"No, thank you.  I've been sent to find a man called Alistair."  
"He's up there. You sure you don't need anything?"  
"Absolutely, but thank you anyway."

I walked up the stone ruins before me and stopped.  My eyebrows raised in appreciation of the crumbling beauty.  Soaring above me, the blue, cloudless sky could be seen through a roofless ceiling; stone struts rising to the sky with fingers splayed yet meeting nothing but the remnants of arches long ago fallen to dust.  Statues still stood guard in this mighty space, some intact but most not.  I could hear a voice being raised on the platform to my right and I walked slowly up to see who was being berated.

"What is it now?" the mage, whom I assumed was Alistair, said in a distinctly harrassed voice.  "Haven't the Grey Wardens asked enough of the Circle?"

Oh, he wasn't Alistair then.  The other man was.  The one who seem to be cowering under a distinctly withering look, or at least exasperated by it.  It would be a lie to say the man wasn't handsome.  Tall, well muscled, yes.  Oh, definitely.  He wore a very simple splintmail that served to emphasise the fighter's build.  

"I simply came to deliver a message from the Revered Mother, ser mage.  She desires your presence." 

He had a very pleasant voice to listen to, although the wise-cracking tone did make him sound a little childish.

"What her Reverence 'desires' is of no concern to me!  I am busy helping the Grey Wardens - by the King's orders, I might add!"  The mage was sounding more and more pompous now.  He seemed to puff himself up, drunk on his own self-importance.  If he thought himself above the Revered Mother, he was a simpleton indeed, mage-rage aside.  
"Should I have asked her to write a note?" I tried to stifle a giggle.  
"Tell her I will not be harassed in this manner!"  
"Yes, I was harassing _you_ by delivering a message." he said glibly.  
"Your glibness does you no credit."   _H_ _a!  You agreed with me.  However, I found him funny.  I suspect you did not._  
"Here I thought we were getting along so well.  I was even going to name one of my children after you ... the grumpy one."  
"Enough!  I will speak to the woman if I must!"  I had to take a step back as the mage turned and walked straight at me.  "Get out of my way, fool!"

I blinked several times as I looked after the man, just stepping back in time to avoid being trampled.  He stormed away down the slope, huffing and muttering all the time.  With an amused grin on my face, I stood and watched him stomp away into the distance. My arms crossed as I tried to determine what to say to the mage next time I saw him. Feelings of impertinence at being treated that way flared up. I pursed my lips and stared after him.

"You know, one good thing about the Blight is how it brings people together." the Grey Warden's voice chimed as he came to stand next to me. His evasive humour broke my glare and I nodded with amusement.  
"You are a very strange man." I said, smiling up at him.  
"You're not the first woman to tell me that." he smirked.

He glanced down, and I noticed that his eyes were amber.  There was a friendly, almost mischievous twinkle that played there as he smiled warmly at me. Yes, his eyes were amber ... and kind ... Maker, was my heart beating a little faster? A response to the mage, surely. As I looked at his face, there was so much about it that I found comfortable, as if I recognised him. My brow furrowed as I studied it. The eyes, the nose, the slope of his jaw - I had seen them before. Recently. I tried to search my memory but it was useless.

"Wait, we haven't met, have we?"  Did he know me? My hopes rose that he would be able to give me some answers. I had to be honest with him that I couldn't give him answers so I shook my head.  His face dropped to serious.  Well, almost.  As much as this man-child could be serious.  Maker!  I hadn't known the man five minutes and already I was judging him and assuming I knew him.  I resolved to find out more, if only to break the first impression I had.  "I don't suppose you happen to be another mage?" he asked, regarding me almost suspiciously out of the corner of his eye.  
"Don't worry, I'm no mage." I told him, throwing a nod to the twin blades on my back. His mouth wrinkled in an approving smile.  
"Less being yelled at for me, then.  Though the day is still young."

I gave a small laugh through my nose.

"Wait, I do know you!" _You do? Please tell me!_ I found myself crying out in my mind.  "You're Duncan's new recruit, from Highever."

Highever.  Yes, I did know that name.  Pride, that's what enveloped me as I thought on that name.  I tried to find my way through the darkness, confident that it would lead me somewhere.  Images flashed by of coastlands and endless forests.  A castle was at the end of the path that led through my memories, but as soon as I got near to it, without warning, I withdrew from it.  It held so much pain that I wanted to run from the memory.  With a small pant of despair, I came out of that painful searching and back to the present.  Quickly I glanced up at Alistair, expecting worried looks, but he simply smiled down at me patiently.  "I should have recognised you right away.  I apologise."  
"How could you recognise me?" came the confused question from my lips.

I stared up at him as he lifted his hand and rubbed the back of his neck, shifting uncomfortably.  His eyes lifted to the sky and it was obvious he was thinking of a way out of the uncomfortable situation.  I watched his mouth frame the sound 'Urmmm...' and saw his eyes wrinkle with panic.

"Duncan sent word!" came the rescuing response, before carrying on quickly. "He spoke quite highly of you.  Allow me to introduce myself: I'm Alistair, the new Grey Warden, though I guess you knew that.  As the junior member of the order, I'll be accompanying you when you prepare for the Joining."

He enthusiastically thrust a hand out to shake mine.  His friendliness won me over and I took his hand.  It was strong, I realised, as it gripped mine.  And he seemed unaware of how powerful a grip it was, I thought with a wince as he let go.

"Pleased to meet you.  My name is Mia."  
"Right.  That was the name.  You know," he began, almost stumbling over the words, "it just occurred to me that there have never been many women in the Grey Wardens.  I wonder why that is?"  

My eyebrow lifted in a wry smirk, trying to keep a laugh in.  Did he know how much he prattled on?  I doubt it.  "You want more women in the Wardens, do you?"  
"Would that be so terrible?" he asked absently as he stared off into the ether.  My shoulders were shaking up and down now as I tried to surpress the laughter. "Not that I'm some drooling lecher or anything.  Please stop looking at me like that." he pleaded as I finally burst out snickering. "So I'm curious," he said, clawing some seriousness back into his voice and sounding desperate to change the subject, "have you ever actually encountered darkspawn before?"  
"No, I haven't." I replied, laughter leeching out of my voice in waves of earnest appreciation of the situation.

A sick feeling settled in my stomach with the mention of the darkspawn.  Here we were laughing at stupid prattling and down below us, King Cailan's forces were amassing ready to fight another wave of them.  When, we didn't know but it would be soon.  I needed to focus and be serious.  Flexing my fingers, I found they were itching to hold my blades and fight something.

"When I fought my first one," he started gravely, "I wasn't prepared for how monstrous it was.  I can't say I'm looking forward to encountering another."  My eyes drifted to the floor as the weight of the situation settled on me.  "Anyhow, whenever you're ready, let's head back to Duncan.  I imagine he's eager to get things started."

He gave a lop-sided, warm smile as I looked up to his face. Meeting those amber eyes though, I was shocked to see so much pain there, masquerading behind a front of daft giddiness. My heart went out to him. What had happened that made him so afraid of being himself?

"Please, lead on." I said quietly and we walked silently to find the Warden Commander.

 

* * *

 

My hands were shaking as I peeled my gloves off, or tried to at least.  I had found a dark corner of the camp to slink off to when we had arrived back at camp.  I had somehow managed to find a small fire that no-one was sitting next to.  I just needed to be alone and think.  What in Maker's name had we just done?  I stared off beyond the leather that clung stubbornly to my hands.  Dark sludge tightened the leather strapping sticking the gloves to my hands but somehow I peeled them off and absently dropped them to the floor.  I inspected my hands for injuries as the stinging wouldn't subside.  There were minor cuts but nothing serious, more grazes than anything.  I was feeling queasy but was that more for what caked my skin, or because of the horror that I had just seen?

With a shaking deep breath, I tried to calm my fears.  Closing my eyes, I focused on trying to still my heart, erratic in its beats against my chest.  The fire popped and fizzed against the quiet background.  The camp moved but away from me.  In my abandoned corner, I tried to calm down.  Desperately tried.

Gaping maws, dripping with black blood and screaming, as they charged towards us.  That scream.  My breath came in short drags as I forced myself to inhale through a throat closing with panic.  That scream.  My ears kept hearing it.  I brought my hands up to my ears and covered them.  Sucking in breath through clenched teeth, my head began to feel dizzy.   _Andraste, please make it stop!_   This cannot be what it meant to be a Grey Warden.  I couldn't handle this.  Just as the views started to subside, they roared back to the forefront of my mind with a traumatic force.  Such rampant evil shook and battered my mind.  I couldn't get away.  My head shook at the sight of beings barely covered in skin, running and decaying in front of me, and fighting with such blatant and bitter hatred.

"No!" I moaned with fear into the dark night.  I squeezed my eyes shut and begged the visions to go away, shaking my head from side to side.

Two hands softly alighted on my shoulders.  "It's okay." a gentle voice whispered.

I whipped my head around, my eyes wide and my breathing escaping in desperate pants, to see Alistair kindly looking down at me.  

"May I sit down?" he asked, to which I nodded silently.  Gingerly he sat down and it was obvious that he was recovering from injury.  "It gets ... easier."

I tried to frame words, tried to speak and tell him how rampantly scared I was, but I couldn't.  My mouth wouldn't work.  There was not space for bravado.  I had no spare adrenaline to try and lie to the man, try and convince him that I was actually okay.  It was all I could do to try and stop shaking as I listened to him.

"Mia, you'll be okay." he tenderly said, holding my eyes with a calm look.  In the firelight, I saw him just patiently wait and watch me, turning his eyes to the flames when I stared back at him.  I couldn't feel any pressure to talk, just to sit and try and be still.  After a few minutes, the trembling subsided and I calmed myself with some deep breaths.  
"So it gets better, huh?" I smiled nervously.  
"Much."  
"Ooh, that was ... _not_ what I expected." I said, stretching out my legs to avoid cramping.  
"You expected armoured and ordered, let me guess." he asked, keeping his eyes on my face.  
"Yep."  
"So did I.  They were not what I thought of as enemies.  I ... I should have told you this but I was raised to be a Templar, until recently when Duncan recruited me.  We were used to guard mages, and taught how to fight, but humans - not ... creatures.  Could you even call them that?  The word seems to imply some form of forethought.  Oh, I don't know what I'm saying."  
"Neither do I." I replied with a sad smile.  
"As a Grey Warden, you learn some command over your fear of them.  There are ... other issues, but I can help you through those too.  If you like.  Not that I'm assuming I'll be able to, you understand, or that you'll want me to." he rushed, before whispering to himself " _Maker's breath"_  and shaking his head.

A pause followed and I turned to study the fire.  I knew he meant well and that he was trying to help.

"Were you scared?"  
"The first time I saw them?"  I nodded.  "Terrified.  No amount of training prepares you for it.  You can learn how to wield a sword, or daggers, but panic overtakes you.  It's only the strong-minded that can overcome that fear.  They are animals.  No, worse than that - they are evil.  Incarnate."  
"So how do you get over it?"  
"Time, and experience.  As pathetic an answer as that is, it is the truth.  Well, that and ..."  
"And?"  
"The Joining."  
"Oh."  
"Don't be afraid of it."  
"Can't you tell me _anything?_ "

He silently shook his head.  I could see that he wanted to but I knew he shouldn't.  I reached into a pocket and drew out a phial and held it out to him.

"That it?" he asked, politely refusing to take it off me but impressed nonetheless.  "It is yours.  You should give it to Duncan."

I held it up to the light and watched the dark, oily substance swirl around the glass.  As it lifted against the inside, I could see a deep and rich scarlet colour, almost black in its nature.  "Yes," I breathed, "this is it."  
"Do you want to stay here for a bit longer?"  
"Yes?  No?  I don't know.  I suppose we should move things along."  
"Shall we be away then?  The Joining awaits you." he said with a melancholy flourish of his hands.  
"I suppose we should."

He stood gracefully, despite obvious soreness from the fighting, and held his hand out to take mine.  I winced automatically, wondering how much he would crush my fingers this time, but it would be horrifically rude to ignore them so I braced myself and reached out.  He was a towering hulk of a man, with blood-spattered splintmail strapped to him, and a sword strapped to his side, but the tenderness with which he took my hand and helped me to standing made me silent with surprise.

"Mia?" he asked in a small voice, full of care.  
"Yes?"  Here he paused as he searched for the right way to say something.  His eyes skittered across the floor as he seemed to be wrestling with something internally.  "Alistair, what is it?"

"I'll see you on the other side.  You'll be fine." he finally looked up to my face and said.  The smile was false.  His eyes betrayed him.  They shone with a dark sadness as they stared at me.  
"Alistair, you're scaring me.  Please stop it." I breathed.

He snapped out of it and drew a wide smile across his face, looking about him and stretching out his injuries.  I knew he was trying to distract himself by moving about and I could tell, from the way he avoided catching my eye on the walk to find Duncan and the other recruits, that there was more he wasn't telling me.  One thought plagued me more than anything else.

What was he so afraid of, and what had I let myself in for?


	2. By any other name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair reflects on Ostagar and how much pain his life can take, until he makes a chance discovery.

I was lost. Rage bubbled somewhere under the surface of utter desolation, followed swiftly by total despair. As I stared into the lake strewn with lily pads and darkly glinting fish, my limbs felt like lead and my head swirled around as if in a thunderstorm. My arms crossed as I sought to find answers to the maddening questions in my head. But I couldn't land on one. Words would coalesce into some form of sentence, only for the rage to come along and destroy my attempt to grasp what the _fuck_ had just happened. I was dimly aware that my heart rate was sky-high and my breathing fraught. As my thoughts shifted from one view of the battle to another, a red mist settled inside my head and I squeezed my eyes shut to keep from screaming into the sky.

“Young man, it will not do to stare at the water. You will not find the answers you seek there.”

I turned around to see the woman with the rasping voice and husky laugh stood near to her house, her own arms folded as she stared at me. Her lips curled up with mirth, I was sure of it. She was mocking me. I clamped my mouth shut and returned to my study of the water.

“Do not fret, Mother. At the very least if he slips in, it will improve the smell.”  
“Is the fact that I haven't bathed for days _really_ the most important thing you can think of?” I snapped, swivelling on my heels to round on the thin woman we had met in the Korcari Wilds a few days ago. They may have been my hosts but my wits were not with me and I was not being polite. I was still trying to process what had happened.  
“No, it isn't but that does remind me that I must go and stir the stew. Do excuse me, Mother.”

The woman who called herself Morrigan disappeared inside the house, but not before sneering at me. I could take it, and I probably deserved it.

“Come, dear boy, sit with me over here.” she said, taking a seat on a crude wooden bench next to her home.  
“Explain again what happened, please. I must understand this.” I pleaded as I stumbled over to see her, almost falling onto the bench in despair.  
“I have told you.” she spoke, condescending in her tone. “I rescued you.”  
“But how?”  
“Do you need to know how? Or can you not be grateful that I did it at all?”  
“Yes, thank you – I mean it – but ...”  
“No, lad, there are some things that are not to be thought on. Some things best left alone.”  
“How could this have happened in the first place though? How could Loghain have done this?” I wrung my hands in the air before my head fell listlessly into them and I stared at the floor below me.

He left. That cold-hearted bastard took his army and left. Why would he do that?

“Is his daughter not the Queen? Now without a husband?” she provoked, a knowing tone to her voice beginning to grate on my ears.  
“Yes, she is.”  
“They say after their husbands, little girls love their fathers the best, and listen for advice. Is that not cause enough to allow his King to die?”  
“Not just his King.” I whispered, willing my mind not to see Duncan's face, dying and alone. No, I couldn't think on that. It would break me. My fists curled round each other, my knuckles turning white in an effort to dispel the pain that was swirling around my mind. There was only one reason that Duncan was dead. The rage at the betrayal burst forth and I near jumped to my feet with the force of it.  
“Come now. It has been happening for centuries. He is not the first man to promote himself by killing his King.”  
“Loghain will pay dearly for what he has done.” came the dark vow. If I could have opened my veins to seal the pact, I would have done.  
“Vows made in anger are rarely the best form of revenge. Do not torture yourself about it for the time being. He is not here and you cannot change anything. What is the use of worry?”

As I stood once again looking out over that dark lake, macabre emotions fought for control of my mind. There was just a constant scream of noise inside my head and all the abhorrency of the past day bubbled in sores through my conscience, festering murderous intent into my soul. This wasn't me, I knew that, but so many people had been killed that day. We could have won! That was the most horrific aspect that I wrestled with. With Loghain's army, we could have fucking _won!_ Those men and women didn't have to die. Cailan didn't have to die. Duncan …

I gritted my teeth as I stood with my hands on my hips, my eyes squeezed shut against the madness. I promised myself that I would not cry. Loghain would not get that from me.

“Can you not just be pleased that for the moment you and your friend are alive?” came the prompt.

Mia! In my blind anger, I had forgotten about her momentarily. Guilt bashed my insides and I looked rapidly to the door to this woman's home. The crone still had not told me her name. _No, Alistair, that was unkind_   I told myself. She had rescued us both from certain death on top of the Tower of Ishal. All I remembered was Mia laying on the floor, punctured by darkspawn arrows. I could not have described the panic that I felt rip through me as I watched her roll about on the floor, the look on her face clearly showing she was not able to comprehend what had happened to her. She had fought well, _so_ well. So many creatures of the underworld had fallen under the dextrous swing of her daggers. Her training must have been great indeed and I knew Highever would be proud. I certainly was.

Yes, as I thought on seeing her fall to the floor, I knew the staggering urge to protect her was not due to my role as a Grey Warden. What it did mean, I did not know yet, but it was strong, and overwhelming.

“Are you sure she is going to be alright?” I asked, finally turning back round. “I saw her fall. There were arrows, so many arrows sticking in her gut, and her chest. You fixed her? Are you sure?”  
“Young man, is that doubt I hear in your voice?” came the frivolous reply, accompanied by a mocking laugh. “So nervous for so young a person. Fret not, she will be fit and at your side soon enough.”  
“My side?”

The old woman simply tilted her head and looked at me with that frustrating smile on her face, yet stayed silent. I felt my cheeks warm but the worry and the stress soon made me forget anything else.

“We are the last of the Grey Wardens. It is right to feel anxious for my comrades.” I lied.  
“Well,” she said after a pregnant pause where I felt like she was inside my very mind, “that is indeed true. If she were to die, you would be the only one in the whole of Ferelden. How odd a notion.”  
“But she _will_ be okay, right?” I asked again. This time, even I could hear the wretchedness in my voice.

A door opened behind us and out she walked, helped by Morrigan. Immediately, I could tell she was suffering. The colour from her cheeks was gone as she walked stiffly towards where I stood. My heart burst with gratitude to the old woman and her promises. Mia looked up at me and smiled weakly. I didn't know whether to run to her side or not but I couldn't take my eyes off her.

“See? Here is your fellow Grey Warden. You worry too much, young man.” came the husky voice.  
“You … you're alive!” I breathed, grateful beyond extremes that the one bright spark of the past day had not been extinguished. “I thought you were dead for sure.  
“I'm not,” she said weakly, “thanks to Morrigan's mother.”

Yes, she was right. In my anger, I had ashamedly forgotten just how much this woman must have done to rescue us. How had she done it? There was an untold power here, my Templar senses burned because of it, but what she was I could not tell exactly. She had not only rescued us, but healed us as well. Fought the Maker for our bodies and kept us this side of the Veil. No, I should have been praising her and instead I was shouting at her. My mind seem to melt out of my ears with apology.

“This doesn't seem real. If it weren't for Morrigan's mother, we'd be dead on top of that tower.”  
“Do not talk about me as if I am not present, lad.”

_Another faux-pas, Alistair. Well done._

“I didn't mean …” I sputtered, “but what do we call you? You never told us your name.” I asked humbly.  
“Names are pretty, but useless. The Chasind folk call me Flemeth. I suppose it will do.”

What the merry _fuck?_ No wonder my Templar senses felt like they were burning out of my eyeballs. This was the apostate to end all other apostates.

“ _The_ Flemeth from the legends?” I stumbled over, concern making my lips trip over themselves. “Daveth was right – you're the Witch of the Wilds, aren't you?” I could see Mia's eyes switch rapidly between me and Flemeth. Time to calm down lest I inspire sheer panic.  
“And what does that mean? I know a bit of magic, and it has served you both well, has it not?”  
“So why did you save us?” Mia's voice asked quietly, still looking hard at the two of us.  
“Well, we cannot have all the Grey Wardens dying at once, can we? Someone has to deal with these darkspawn. It has always been the Grey Wardens' duty to unite the lands against the Blight. Or did that change when I wasn't looking?”  
“Of course not!” she challenged indignantly, her eyes showing she was clearly still in some discomfort from her recent injuries. Injuries sustained from being left to die at the top of a tower. I could feel the rage building again. It sunk down my arms and legs, boiling my skin along the way. I fought with myself to keep it in.  
“But we were fighting the darkspawn!” I spat, barely able to keep a hold on my temper. “The King had nearly defeated them! Why would Loghain do this?”  
“Now that is a good question. Men's hearts hold shadows darker than any tainted creature.” Flemeth insinuated with a black smile. I could hear the voice pouring out of this snake's mouth in vile waves. “Perhaps he believes the Blight is an army he can outmaneouvre. Perhaps he does not see that the evil behind it is the true threat.”

I shivered as I realised what she was talking about. That ever-present source of evil and malice in my dreams. It wasn't enough to cover the screams of the dying men from the army slaughtered on the battlefield, but it did dull them momentarily. There was an underlying dread when I realised the choices for my mind were death or evil. They were both going to vye for attention and try to outdo each other. I was not in for a good time. A dragon's terrifying mouth roared in my mind's eye and I winced outwardly.

“The archdemon.” I breathed.  
“Will you help us fight this Blight, Flemeth?” Mia asked gently but firmly. Her voice was quiet but insistent, and had a quality about it that made people listen.  
“Me? I am just an old woman who lives in the Wilds. I know nothing of Blights and darkspawn.” she charmed darkly, lying barefaced to us.  
“Well, whatever Loghain's insanity, he obviously think the darkspawn are a _minor_ threat. We must warn everyone this isn't the case.” I was thinking more clearly now. The hatred was giving me course and aim. I would bring this fucker down, if I had to drag every noble in Ferelden to a Landsmeet myself and show them what a murderous, treacherous bastard Loghain was.  
“And who will believe you? Unless you think to convince this Loghain of his mistake?”  
“He just betrayed his own King!” I nearly snarled at her cool dispassion. “If Arl Eamon knew what he did at Ostagar, he would be the first to call for his execution!”

I didn't stop to think of the barrel-load of explanation using that name would bring along with it. I spat out the name as readily as I would have used Duncan's. Redcliffe. That wasn't a place I had thought about in a long time but how easily the name, and Arl Eamon's face, had sprung to mind. I nervously looked to watch Mia, conscious that as a noblewoman she would be aware of the Arl. Indeed, had the events of a few weeks ago not happened, we could have petitioned her own father to speak. Both he and Loghain shared equal status as Teyrns. Alas, I thought as fresh pain pricked at my soul, that was not to be. Mia had told me about her memory loss. How could I tell her? Why did it have to be me to convey the horror that she had had to go through? I sighed internally, aware of my own pain but so acutely aware of hers too. Her mind was trying to protect itself by shutting down, and I would probably be the one to open it again.

There was a look of confusion on Mia's face. Her eyes sought answers as they stared beyond the floor. Maybe she was trying to remember something, or someone, but there was intent there that I had not seen before.

“Arl Eamon? The Arl of Redcliffe?” she said decisively, looking to me with questions trailing in her eyes. I could see a new purpose there and I swelled at the determination I saw in her. Yes, I believe she had remembered something. She stood a little taller and, if I was not mistaken, a little freer.  
“I suppose. Arl Eamon wasn't at Ostagar; he still has all his men. And he was Cailan's uncle.” I offered, bolstered by her vigour. “I know him. He's a good man, respected in the Landsmeet. Of course! We could go to Redcliffe and appeal to him for help!”  
“That sounds like an excellent idea.” _Really? You think that's a good idea? Nobody ever thinks my ideas are good._   My pride surged a little when I saw her staring back at me. Her blue eyes, usually misted by a dark forebearance, shone as they stared at me. My stomach started to fizz a little, cutting through the pain for one brilliant moment.  
“Such determination. How intriguing.” Flemeth said, turning to stare at me with a knowing laugh. I turned away before I could blush.  
“I still don't know if Arl Eamon's help would be enough. He can't defeat the darkspawn horde by himself.”  
“Surely there are other allies we could call on.” came the simple question.

A bolt of clarity thundered through my mind. Why hadn't I thought of it before? A simple, yet devastatingly obvious, idea. Embarrassment raged with gratitude that an answer to our monstrous problems had presented itself.

“Of course! The treaties! Grey Wardens can demand aid from dwarves, elves, mages, and other places! They're obligated to help us during a Blight!”  
“I may be old, but dwarves, elves, mages, this Arl Eamon, and who knows what else … this sounds like an army to me.” she grinned darkly, raising a knowing brow as she stared at me.  
“So can we do this? Go to Redcliffe and these other places and … build an army?” I turned to Mia and asked  
“Why not? Isn't that what Grey Wardens do?” Mia responded excitedly, an exhilerated thrill curling her perfect mouth. I looked up at her.

Her eyes. Those big, blue, hypnotic eyes stared at me, begging for me to say something. Just a moment to … look … _No!_   I chastised myself. _Do not think of that._ Duncan. His body, broken and bleeding, flashed unwillingly before my eyes. My throat started to close with the rapidly rising levels of agony. _Pain, remember? Those close to you die, they send you away. Do not do this, Alistair. It will only end in tears._   My conscience spoke truly. Those close to me tended to leave me. I resolved to close that door and turned back to her with a plain, serious face.

“So you are set, then? Ready to be Grey Wardens?” Flemeth asked.  
“Yes. Thank you for everything, Flemeth.” she turned suddenly and said. I could only hear genuine thanks in her voice. My eyes closed to the ache starting somewhere in my chest.  
“No, no, thank you. You are the Grey Wardens here, not I. Now, before you go, there is yet one more thing I can offer you ...”

 

* * *

 

“We have a dog and Alistair is _still_ the dumbest one in our party.”

It had begun as out-and-out hatred, presumably from my Templar-yness, and it carried on through sniping and petty arguments, descending into something distinctly beautiful, like bile. In my silence and grief, it was all I could not to turn and rip her head from her shoulders, but since I was fairly sure she could turn me into a toad, I wasn't prepared to do that. Endlessly we traded insults over trivialities. I had tried to remain aloof but slowly I had been drawn in to base arguments over nothing, with plenty of soul-ripping heckling from both sides. To my utter dismay, I heard insults about her mother dribbling from my mouth. That should have not been allowed and wasn't my finest hour. I had resolved to apologise to her, demeaning myself by even thinking about it, but as I even drew near to her, at camps or on the road, she would look at me like I was Mabari filth and the cycle would start again.

Morrigan was still muttering to herself when we eventually alighted over a hill and saw Lothering. She was still glaring as we made contact with the Templar knight waiting outside the Chantry. As Mia petitioned Ser Moran outside the door, Morrigan caught my eye and her lip sneered at me. As we slipped inside the large church, crammed full with people praying in every corner, she glared at me some more. I swear, if that woman's _skin_ could convey one message, it would be loathing. She seemed built for it. Every inch of her cried disdain as she stood there, tutting and shaking her head. When we entered the tavern, where we somehow managed to pick up yet another rogue into our party, an Orlesian called Leliana, Morrigan finally started to be quiet.

Everything was happening so fast and mercifully outside of my control. I was just following Mia through endless hills, up and down dirt tracks and through forests. It was strange. In the woods, she seemed to come alive. There was a real love of the nature that we found there. One particular night at camp, she was not by the fire so I went looking for her. In the end I found her not far away, sitting on a rock in a wide open glade with her eyes closed and a calm smile. I noticed that her shoulders were not hunched for once and she looked, well, relaxed. The moonlight lit her face in soft shades of white and blue and I stopped to look at her for a stolen moment.

“Are you … ?” I started before she held up a finger to quieten me, never even opening her eyes.  
“Ssssh.” she grinned happily.

I looked around for anything out of the ordinary. I knew she was a rogue and had excellent hearing skills, and the smile was making me nervous.

“The forest. It makes me happy when I listen to it.” she whispered.

With that, she beamed the most enormous smile before opening her eyes and gazing up at me. My heart practically stopped at the stolen moment. Moonlight, solitude, a beautiful woman. Wait, did I just describe her as beautiful? Well, I suppose she was. Mia was tall, and graceful, and beautiful, and deadly … _Shut up before you do yourself permanent damage,_ I told myself. These were the moments that bards told of. Whispers in the Chantry dormitories where stories telling of soft and intimate clinches were shared between the boys – moonlight, romance, nakedness. It scared me rigid. I didn't want women screaming at me. That had happened enough with the Arlessa. I had to admit though, I wasn't scared now. It was actually kind of wonderful.

“And you know what the worst part is?” she told me with a patiently frustrated smile, shaking me out of my fears. “I don't even know why.”  
“Why what?” I asked, not even realising that I was now sitting down next to her on the rock.  
“Why do I love forests so much? Why do I grin when I see swamps?”  
“Monsters to kill?” I asked with a smirk. “They live in swamps, right?”  
“I'm not just a killing machine, you know.” Her smile had faded a little as she regarded me out of the corner of her eye.  
“I know that! It's just that … well, you're so good ... with daggers!” Somewhere in my head, I could see Morrigan slow-clapping me with contempt riddled across her face as she shook her head. “You know, most people tell me to shut up long before I even open my mouth. You're the patient type, I can tell.”  
“Well, thank you. I think.” she said as the smile crept back by inches.  
“What were you listening for?”  
“Just … sounds. There was a fox sniffing across the glade a bit ago.”  
“You could tell it was a fox by the way it sniffed? Impressive.”  
“No, Alistair, I opened my eyes when I heard the noise.”  
“Oh.”  
“Do you have any control over your mouth?” she teased as she turned to me with a look that was on the softer side of condescension.  
“Not really. It sometimes checks in with my mind but then runs away giggling.”

Mia smiled as she turned back to the starlit glade in front of us, her eyes drifting shut again. It really was a beautiful night. Glancing up, I could even see the stars.

“It's a beautiful night.” I offered, dumbly aware that I couldn't think of anything else to say. She hummed through her nose in soft agreement.  
“It's cold though.” came her quiet voice and I felt her body shivering next to me. When I looked, I could see that she was holding her arms near to her chest and shaking ever so slightly. There was a pregnant pause as she looked back up to me. Had she moved her body closer to mine, or was I just wishing that? Well, if she was cold, there was only one thing to do, right?  
“Let's get you back to the fire then.” I told her in a friendly manner, hoping to win her over with my charm and thoughtfulness.

Her eyes dropped a little before lifting back up with a flat smile as she rose silently from the rock.

“Yes, let's.” she agreed before walking back with me the short way to the fire.

Shaking my head to wake me from the memory, I could see Lothering approaching once again. We were trudging back to the village having been out to kill some bears that had been causing mayhem. The thought was that to engender goodwill with the Chantry, and keep us nice with the villagers, we would help out where we could. I rolled my head as we walked, trying to tease out the knots in my shoulders. Cramp was threatening and my calf muscles could use a good stretch, but there was a weight of stinking, dripping bear hide draped across my shoulders. Bears could be vicious things and these had been several large ones. A feeling of quiet and tiredness settled over us and we followed the road back in silence. As I followed Mia, Morrigan and Leliana, I realised that I had been replaying those moments from the wood in my head again. I also thought, with a thump, that for those brief minutes I had been happy. There weren't any thoughts of the Blight, my rage hadn't been hammering my mind, I hadn't seen Duncan's face floating through my head, and I hadn't felt the overwhelming urge to kill Morrigan. I had just been me. As I thought on that glade, I smiled, not even noticing the women any more as my mud-caked boots traipsed along the road.

“Do you think the tavern would rent us a room for the night?” I heard the soft Orlesian tones of Leliana's voice ask. I didn't quite know what to make of her yet. On the surface there was kindliness and warmth, but there was also a dark undertone that told of secrets. My instincts were to trust her but there was a wariness there too. She was just so … open. It made me suspicious.  
“A room?” Mia said amusedly as she threw a nod to me. “Maybe two would suffice.”  
“Three.” Morrigan growled quietly. “I will sleep by myself.”  
“Do we have enough money for three rooms?” Leliana asked.  
“I think so. These bear hides should get us some coins. I need a bath.” Mia sighed.

I had stumbled before I'd realised the rock was there. I walked along, biting my lip and willing myself not to picture … her … in … _Do not think of Mia in that bath, Alistair. I said no! Do not think of that skin, wet and naked._   And then suddenly, I was on my back looking at the stars, bear hides all over me, trying to figure out which bastard rock had tripped me up this time. I spat out nastiness I didn't even want to think of as I tried to extract myself from the soggy mess with whatever dignity I could muster. Hands dragged bear pelts off of me and pretty soon, a hand came out of the encroaching twilight to help me up. Following the arm up, I could see her friendly face with a smile halfway between pitying and merriment.

“You okay?” she asked as I hoisted myself back up to standing.  
“Peachy.” my lips sneered as I pulled something hairy and gelatinous of my mouth.  
“Come on,” Mia said with a patient smile as she hoisted bear pelts onto her own shoulders, “let's get these sold and we can all go to bed.”

_Seriously Mia, what are you trying to do to me?_

We managed to get back to the village without any more distractions and haggled a pretty decent price in the end. There were only two rooms at the tavern available though. I volunteered to help with the village night watch for a shift in return for a cot. I would take the early morning, just after dawn had broken. In truth, I looked forward to it. I needed time to think on a lot of things. Not just my companions but planning our route out of the political and personal midden heap.

So there I was, wandering the northern perimeter of Lothering, hearing the Chantry bell toll five times, when I stopped and looked back towards the town. It was still, aside from smoke rising from the baker's workshop. Flames flickered and lit the outside of the Chantry where I knew guards, better armoured than me, waited and had watched into the dark of the night and out the other side. It was only right that they protect the Chantry or was that my Templar training talking? Many had sheltered in there overnight and sisters tended to them without thought and beyond patience. I strolled to the top of a small hillock and could see into the town. I had watched Lothering come alive since three bells in the morning when it had risen out of the black, like docile cattle waking in a damp field.

Those on guard with me, and I could see several from where I stood, on the north side of town had seen no action overnight. I had seen bats flying, and the odd owl, and at one point I thought I saw some things moving off in the distance but there seemed to be many. I had been told that bandits operated in the area, using the old Imperial Highway at night with brazen auspice. Under no circumstances was I going off investigating unless someone else was with me. As nobody had been by to check in quite some time, I resolved that my job would be preventing imminent invasion. I practiced simple maneouvres to keep my muscles from stiffening in the cold air but it was really quite a dull job. However, it meant the ladies got a proper bed for the night. Anyway, it was either share a bedroom with Morrigan or take a shift with the Watch. My soldier's cot was looking cosier all the time.

Stifling a yawn in the early morning air, I swept the end of my sword at tall flowers still wet with dew. My mind drifted and so history lessons and Templar schooling began to run through my mind. I wondered where on earth the great battle had taken place as I looked around me. This space was open but surely not large enough for two armies to engage. I started wondering where the commanders would have led their troops to and what they would have said to the men moments before the battle. How would those men have reacted when their leaders fell? Great men in their own way and from families that bled into the very soul of Ferelden. I laughed gently through my nose as I thought of the families of those who had fallen. Not mockingly so, in fact very far from it.

I looked up. This nearby land must have been soaked in blood, bodies everywhere. How many countless field surgeons would have wept in the corners of tents, unable to patch up those men who begged to be saved? How many sons fed the ground with their dying dreams, whispered to the air as they died alone? Rotten schemes of those far above them fettered their ankles and forced them to fight. Feudalism had built Ferelden, I thought on mournfully, and wasted good men in pointless battles. The Battle of Lothering had not been unimportant but it had been pointless. The Orlesians had come, ransacked our country and stayed for eighty years. Had the battle here done anything but delay the inevitable?

Maker, the recent events were colouring everything black in my mind. The pommel of my sword was gripped a little tighter as I thought about all the pointless deaths at Ostagar. How much blood had drenched the field there? How red must that ground have been?

Loghain's face appeared in my mind, his promises dripping like honeyed poison from that foul mouth. A young sapling took the full force of my sword and it splintered in two, falling clumsily to the floor. I picked up the head of the now decapitated tree and looked around, cursing myself for being so destructive and careless. I felt a surge of disappointment in myself. There was a bank of bushes and trees nearby so I sheathed my sword and walked over, carrying my macabre prize with me. I snapped the branches with a little more vigour than I should have done, desperate to get rid of the malice pulsing through my body. I was ashamed that I'd let it get to me. I had vowed not to let Loghain get the better of me. Duncan would not, _could_ not, be avenged if I didn't act rationally. My time would come, but not before more death and destruction, I realised with a sigh.

Throwing the last of the kindling down into the undergrowth, I stared at the remains of the ruined tree, barely started at life and already broken and cast away to be returned to the ground. Why was my life so empty and dirty at the moment? I couldn't get clean now matter how much time I spent in rivers and baths. I would feel tainted for the rest of my life, and not because of the Joining, but because I had let Duncan down. I'd not been there for him. What was Lothering's fate? The same? The Blight would end it, without a doubt. Homes would be torn apart by rampaging Hurlocks and small doglike Genlocks. Ogres would feast and break and destroy. This evil would run unchecked and small towns like Lothering would suffer because of it.

I thought of my companions and of Mia, and my heart swelled. She was the one bright spark in my dull existence. There was agony and then there was her; cutting through glacial pain like a warm, spring breeze. Every day, her skill as a leader and a fighter grew. We had faced more bands of darkspawn on our travels and she had faced them with utter bravery. There had been no more shaking afterwards in the camp, I had made sure of that. Pride filled my heart as I marvelled at her. Beautiful and fragile, yet unwilling to bend to the despair around her.

Dusting my hands off, my eyes caught something in the undergrowth. In the dull and feeble light of the dawn, colour only just beginning to leech back into the world, I pulled aside brambles and weeds to find what I had seen. There, between bushes and trees and sheltered from life's storms, grew a single red rose. I stared in wonder at how something so delicate could have grown with so much ugliness around it. I wondered at how it mirrored Lothering's fate. Growing up in the middle of so much death, quietly being ignored until now when it would more than likely be trampled and obliterated. I found that I couldn't bear the thought of losing something so rare and wonderful to the madness of the darkspawn, not when I could keep it safe. Reaching to my belt and unclipping a small scabbard I kept there, I retrieved a knife.

I knew exactly what I wanted to do with this treasure.


	3. Revealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group leave Lothering and are on the path to Redcliffe. Mia's nightmares grow stronger.

She was a pleasant woman, the lady I walked beside. She talked animatedly as I listened. Her mouth moved but no sound came out, and yet I could hear every word she said. We were approaching a large castle, brightly lit in the high sun of midday. Mighty walls rose for a great distance, scree bouncing down them to end in the river that flowed at the bottom of a yawning chasm. As I looked to the top, shielding myself from the fierce blaze of the sun, I could see the tops of the towers were wrapped in cloud as the summits grew faint in the distance. I stared up as we walked along and I could see an eagle circling the peak. At least it looked like an eagle. Large wings spread over a distance the size of several homesteads. The screech that came whistling with the winds brought a chill to my heart.

“But darling,” the kindly woman said, “daggers are no use against the heart.” she told me mysteriously, her dextrous fingers warping and morphing as she waved her hands in the air.  
“The heart?” my shifting voice asked.  
“The heart wants what the heart wants. Is that not right, Bryce?”  
“Yes, my dear.” a voice to the right of me said. I turned slowly to see a man dressed in battle armour, emblazoned with a teardrop shaped crest that I recognised but could not recall. Two large wings, resembling great long leaves that had been painted white, rose out of his back. His eyes shone with a brilliant blue fire that crackled and burned. How wonderfully did he smile at me!

We were approaching the bridge to the castle. Rounding the corner, we stepped foot on to the hot wooden planks that ran towards the gatehouse, which stretched away from us as soon as we started to walk towards it. The castle moved away from us, keeping time with our steps. I was confused but my companions laughed as they walked and my mind laughed too, followed by my mouth which hiccuped and giggled as I walked.

By the time we had caught up with the stone pier in the middle of the bridge, the sky was black with flying bats, or was that the clouds that raced noiselessly across the sky?

“Hold on to her, Bryce.” the kindly woman said, her voice suddenly breaking with fear, a bow and nocked arrow appearing in her hand .

A piercing scream filled the air and we all three shielded our ears against the pain. As it ended, I looked at my hands in horror to see they were slick with blood. My eyes flicked to the man and woman only to see that their faces were sprayed red and their ears ran with blood too. The man whom she called Bryce winced and jerked as if he was being attacked and cut from invisible swords. I tried to claw at them but my arms moved as if through treacle.

From underneath the bridge, I heard an unholy roar building and as it streamed upwards to where we stood, it shook the wooden planks and stone flags below our feet. I ran to the side and looked over. Far, far below where I was, gripping on to the stone rail lest my soul fall out of my body and join the evil down there, moved an unseen mass that bubbled and flowed. Crimson reds, bright yellows, burning oranges; they all flickered and waved, coalescing into one river of corrupt fire that screeched and heaved below.

The piercing scream ripped through the black air again and my hands found my bleeding ears. I looked up, only for my mouth to fall open in silent screaming. A dragon, large and darkly beautiful, sat atop the castle walls, a roaring maw bellowing to the hordes of underlings that marched below us. We were caught in the middle and I couldn't help but fill the panic overflow in me.

“Mia!” came the cry and I turned round, only to freeze in pain.

With fire raining down around them, the two were now on the floor of the bridge, yet it was no longer a bridge but a room with no ceiling. The man no longer wore the armour but a shirt of red and gold, slick with blood and was lying on the floor. The woman, who now wore armour, knelt down and cradled his head. She was weeping mighty tears and looked up at me with such an expression of utter sadness and agony that I cried myself as I tried to wade towards her. There was such resistence as I tried to make it, my heart nearly breaking out of my chest in fear. I was so very nearly there but as I got close to her outstretched fingertips, the dragon left its perch. Glancing back over my shoulders as the howling and thundrous roaring swooped down to where we sat, I started to panic. As the beating of its monstrous wings grew ever more loud, I turned round and tried to fight my way towards the kindly people in front of me. Those fingertips became my only goal and my forehead bled sweat as I struggled to get nearer. The screech from the dragon was the last thing I heard as my outstretched hand brushed hers before a hundred slathering teeth closed around my waist...

 

* * *

 

I watched her thrash about on the simple mat and immediately knew what was happening. I sighed as I turned away, unable to take the pain of what was happening away. The nightmares were coming thick and fast for her at the moment. She was a raw recruit and had not yet learned to control her dreams. How much had to be taught and how inadequate I felt. I was only her senior by a matter of months, hardly any better at all.

It was the early hours of the morning and I had finished my shift to watch over the camp. Sitting down on my sleeproll, I stared into the fire and tried to think about what the next few days would bring, and also to distract myself from the mounting anxiety I felt at Mia's situation. In the next few days we should be in Redcliffe, my childhood home. What would it be like? The last time I had been there I had been ten, nearly eleven, and being packed off to the Chantry. I hadn't seen the place since, nor had I wanted to. I could not say that it held good memories ... well, they were not _all_ bad. Learning to ride horses, and fight with the guards, and climb trees; a lot was good. Running down to the docks in the village when the boats had come in from across Lake Calenhad, was a favourite activity of mine. Seated on the barrels, eating an apple I had scrumped from a particularly fine tree on the way down, I would watch what they unloaded and dream of the freedom that they brought with them, often making up stories to go with the hauls. Fish would be brought by burly fishermen that would sail out onto the lake under the cover of a mighty storm to do battle with the Lord of Whales, an extraordinary fighter with a trident the size of a tree. Cotton would be brought in by men who knew of a special factory, one that was run entirely by mice. Strange, small creatures that could spin the finest cotton fabric known to mankind on tiny, tiny looms. Sometimes sacks of grain would be dumped onto the docks. They, of course, came from farms where each gigantic field had a giant attending it. They were deceptively tender as they looked after their corn. Thick fingers became delicate when picking and threshing the ears, but woe betide anyone who dared steal any. These giants were merciless at hunting for thieves and were best avoided.

I sighed with a wistful smile on my face as I thought on the few happy memories I had of Redcliffe, yet my nostalgia turned to anxiety as I heard Mia roll and moan in panic nearby. The clamour was building and I knew she would wake soon. 

With a cry into the cold air of camp, she awoke, rolled over and sat up quickly. She rubbed her forehead for a moment as she stared about herself. Her eyes were still wild and heavy with the nightmare. As her chest heaved up and down with panicked breathing, I patiently waited. Before long, she turned to look at me so I smiled back at her, keen to show a friendly face.

“Bad dreams, huh?”  
“It seemed so real …” she breathed, not daring to believe that she was out of the dream and awake.  
“Well, it is real, sort of.” I started, already feeling unworthy of explaining such a complex relationship. “You see, part of being a Grey Warden is being able to hear the darkspawn. That's what your dream was. Hearing them.”

It had to be me that did the talking, didn't it? Why couldn't it have been someone else? Why, at that moment when she needed someone sensible, did I suddenly realise that in the whole of Ferelden, there were only two Grey Wardens? And one was bumbling over an explanation to the other. Her eyes still looked in my direction but her mind was still processing what I was saying to her. I knew she was smart so something else must have been going on.

“The Archdemon, it … 'talks' to the horde, and we feel it just as they do. That's why we know this is really a Blight.”  
“The Archdemon? Is that the dragon?”

Her eyes softly folded as they seemed to recall something painful from the nightmare. I had seen this often. Before Ostagar, when all the Grey Wardens were together, the night air would be rife with them. Moans of pain and cries of fear would float over the sleeping, calling to those who were awake. Sometimes the sleepers' screams would wake me up, other times I would lie still and pray I wouldn't fall asleep, just so I couldn't hear the darkspawn. My nightmares were riddled with the Archdemon, or the dragon as it had presented itself. Something about the subconscious left me feeling completely alone when I dreamt of it, mired in a haze of fear. The loss of control was the worst. I swung my sword but it flew slowly and would never reach the dragon before it tried to pick me up like a chewtoy.

“I don't know if it's really a dragon, but it sure looks like one. But yes, that's the Archdemon.”

Her eyes grew large with a feigned happy face, her mouth framing silent cries of joy, before falling back to introspective. Her hands rubbed her face, presumably trying to wipe away the cares of the dream.

“It takes a bit, but eventually you can block the dreams out.” A disbelieving shake of the head followed a low snort of skepticism. She couldn't even look my way. “Some of the older Grey Wardens say they can understand the Archdemon a bit, but I sure can't.”

Now she turned to look at me. It took me a moment to wonder at the pity and compassion that streamed through her eyes. The look made me want to run to her and ask for hugs, and I didn't even know why. When the realisation hit, I couldn't help but take a deep, shaky breath to calm myself.

“Anyway, when I heard you thrashing around, I thought I should tell you. It was scary at first for me, too.”  
“Thank you, Alistair. I appreciate it.” she smiled, which was a blatant lie.

She'd had a nightmare, thrashed about, woken to see me staring at her like an idiot, and then proceeded to have a rash and threadbare explanation of what she had just gone through thrown at her. I wanted to believe her. I wanted her to know that I had only done it with the best intentions. Yet as she stared at me with those round, blue eyes that were full of hurt, my mind began to make irrational and, quite frankly, stupid, explanations. _The darkspawn – they made me do it! No? Well, the First Enchanter whispered in my ear from all that way away. Yep, he made me do it. How about a a Pride Demon then, making me think I was good at something like this!_   My mind shrugged and gave up at that point. I'm fairly sure it wanted to disown me. Ho-hum, maybe tomorrow would be a better day, I hoped, glancing up into the sky and stars. I realised that it was later in the night than I had previously guessed. The eastern sky was beginning to turn pink, and I knew just how long we needed to travel. I snuck a glance at her again out of the side of my eye and with a panic, realised that she was still waiting for me to say something. _Quick!  Say something clever, and meaningful!_

“That's what I'm here for. To deliver unpleasant news and witty one-liners.” _Idiot._ “Anyhow, you're up now, right? Let's pull up camp and get a move on.”

 

* * *

The rain was relentless from mid-morning onwards. Down it poured. Dripping from the trees we walked under, soaking my clothes and running down my back. Morrigan was leading us across the Hinterlands towards Redcliffe. I knew the area, sort of, but she was an expert guide, much as it pained me to say it. We walked along deer trails and through ancient woodlands. Occasionally I saw things moving in the corner of my eye but since she didn't worry then neither did I. In a perverse way, I trusted the daughter of the Witch of the Wilds. It kind of went with the name that she would know about the country all around us.

And wild it was, but so incredibly beautiful. Sheer cliffs that shot skywards were riddled with deep crevasses, pockmarked by waterfalls gorged by the rain, tumbling onto rocks and then running down to greet rivers that we walked besides. The tall granite was slick and eery with the inclement weather; turning from the colour of the cloudy sky to a deep, slick silver. The forests that we passed through were no less magnificent. Mighty ashes stood guard over farmsteads whose cart tracks we used, while the slopes that rose and fell with awesome fearlessness held tight to the swathes of larches and pines that clung to the sides of the mountains.

Yet despite the beauty, held tight by the persistent rain and made gloriously lustrous with the rain, I was wet, and cold. My clothes stuck to me as I walked. I imagined the fires of Redcliffe, bright and warm, the kitchens ready to welcome me back and feed me.  My mouth started watering. I brought my arms to my chest and pressed my balled hands to my mouth with glee and grinning inanely. The food from Redcliffe was legendary and had blazed across my dreams during my lonely nights at the Chantry. Memories of the kitchen staff handing me scraps made me dizzy with joy and did much to drive away the _drip, drip, drip_ of rain that hit my neck with cold perseverence. The path we now trod was wide and watched over by trees the size of houses. Several large flat rocks interrupted the bare earth but mercifully it wasn't slick with mud just yet.

Morrigan reckoned we would be in Redcliffe village within a day or two. When asked why we hadn't taken the West Road that ran straight there, she snorted.

“And there was I wondering what had become of you. I'd almost forgotten how incredibly banal your mind was. You hadn't said anything stupid in hours.”  
“That's because I had my mouth shut, right?” I spat back.  
“'Tis an honest answer.”  
“So why not?” I asked again.  
“Because Loghain's armies will be using the main roads, Alistair.” Mia said simply, keeping her eyes on the road as we scrambled over rocks that had blocked the road. “Morrigan is right to take us this way.”

I watched Morrigan turn her head ever so slightly with a look of confusion at Mia's interjection. I only saw the side of her head but puzzlement wrinkled her brow before she turned back to leading us ahead.

We carried on for a while longer in silence, the only sound being the constant drumming on the trees over head. Occasionally the trees would thin and we would feel the full force of the early spring rain, still cold with the memory of winter. Misery was beginning to seep into everyone. I could see it in the way tired limbs lifted heavy shoes and soaked clothes. Shoulders slumped against the drizzle that invaded everywhere. It was a long while before anyone said anything. It just happened to be the voice that I was beginning to crave hearing.

“Alistair.” Mia's voice announced her as she appeared beside me.  
“Mia.” I smiled back, trying to spray out of the my mouth the water that was running down my face.

She smiled back at the attempt at friendliness.

“Alistair, you know my history, right? You talked to Duncan about me?” she asked quietly.  I could feel my heart rate rising. I knew what was coming.  
“Yes, I did.”  
“You know I've been having problems with my memory.”  
“So you've been telling me. Have you been remembering anything else?”  
“Sort of.”

Several more moments of silence. Just long enough for my boots to squelch through mud. I could feel the water beginning to seep through and soak my socks. The water had taken Mia's normally blonde hair and pasted it to her face in wet curls of brown and black.

“Alistair, who's Bryce?”

And there it was. The ball of hideousness that had been waiting to be exploded, shattering pain and suffering all over her life. There was no way to avoid it. My mind suggested running off into the hills in panic, just bolting from the path that we all trod and never looking back, and for a time that looked like an interesting option. However, it wasn't about me. It was about her, and helping her to recover. It was going to hit sooner or later, the terrible truth about what had happened at Castle Cousland. I just wanted to be there to hold her hand, or to hug her better if she let me. Deciding that honesty was always the best policy, I stopped and she followed suit. Mercifully, we were at the back. Leliana and Morrigan were enjoying a frosty silence as they walked further ahead. They didn't look back. The rain drummed down around me as I waited for my mouth to decide to talk.

“Your father, Mia.” I stated as simply as I could manage.

She looked up at me, but through me and I knew she was seeing things I couldn't imagine. Flickers of pain started to run across them that slowly built to a crescendo, bending her face and creasing her eyes. I held my breath as she started to speak.

“They were murdered, weren't they? My parents?” she finally said in a low voice.  
“Yes.” I whispered, hardly daring to move.

She shakily exhaled a deep breath through pale lips. With a trembling hand, she away wiped the water that dripped down her face and into her mouth.

“There's nothing I can say, Mia, that could tell you how truly sorry I am that you're going through this.”  
“I know.” she breathed, eyes full of pain. “Thank you.”  
“I am here for you.” 

Her blue eyes swept back to mine, regarding me with a soft curiosity that brought her back from the edge of agony. A shield was quickly growing over her mind, I could see it in her eyes. A hardness was forming and her jaw was clenched, a natural reaction to utterly horrific news. But still she held my gaze, pinning me to the spot where I stood. I couldn't move.

It was wet, it was cold, and all around us was a country descending into war with the evil buried under the earth. Yet, I didn't care about that. All I cared about, in that moment, was stood in front of me and I would have done anything for her.  Wow, this feeling was raw, and new, and incredibly overwhelming.

And I liked it.

 


	4. Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group reach Redcliffe and Alistair is forced to reveal a huge part of his life to Mia.

“Anything?” I called out, trying not to notice the black ichor leaching out of the carcass onto my hand as I fought the slick blood-covered buckles. The cuirass that had been strapped to the hurlock was actually well forged and would fetch a good price if scraped clean. I balked at the spurt of rotting flesh that oozed out of the chest wounds, along with the malodourous puff of gas. A physical retch came up and I steadied myself, trying to concentrate on not vomiting my meagre breakfast all over my shoes. I was filthy enough as it was but I didn't need more reason to be ashamed of my appearance.  
“Maybe.” came Sten's deep, steady voice. I glanced across to where he stood swinging a battered sword, occasionally stopping to inspect the blade more closely.

We had nearly reached Redcliffe village, indeed we would be there within the next few hours, when we happened upon a rampaging band of darkspawn. They had been fairly easy to dispatch but that didn't mean that my hands weren't trembling. Dealing with them, killing them, had been easy enough but the fear that swept through me was overpowering. It was getting better, my mind was hardening, but they were still evil. Just thinking about their macabre grinning skulls, skin barely stretching over bloody bone, sent an involuntary shudder across my shoulders.

At last, the gooey buckles were undone and I was able to pull the armour off the body. It took a little tugging to get the backplate out from under the heavy mass of flesh and detritus, but as I inspected it, my eyebrows raised involuntarily at the craft that had been poured into it. It was stupid to think that beings bred for fighting and destruction would be badly armoured but I was impressed nonetheless.

There had been five darkspawn waiting in the small opening between the rocks. Alistair and I had been able to give the group a little warning and by the time they exploded against us, we had our weapons ready to fight. It had been tense but we had succeeded fairly easily and were now picking over the remains. Leliana had disappeared off to try and scout the coming pathway, Dog was resting and chewing on a bone he had found that I didn't want to know the origin of, Sten and Alistair were looking at the weapons that had been dropped and Morrigan, well she was sat atop the boulders looking down on us, both physically and metaphorically. She fairly refused to talk to us when we camped at night, prefering to either sit by her own fire or away in the shadows altogether, just glaring at us. She glared at Alistair most of the time.

Alistair. He was fast becoming a problem. Not only was he charming and funny, he was also kind and compassionate. It was the little touchs like making sure people had a hot drink at the end of the day before we went to sleep, just to have something to warm our fingers on. He always took a drink to Morrigan as well. Was that jealousy that tickled my stomach and made me wriggle uncomfortably inside? She was tall and darkly beautiful after all, with enough detachment to ensnare innocent young soldiers to a promise of mystery. The endless sniping between the two, it made me wonder. Was there too much emotion to be _just_ hatred? Were there secret desires? He was an ex-Templar and she was an apostate mage. It wouldn't be too incredible to think that sparks flew because of hidden attractions, ones that couldn't ever be talked about, and didn't closeted emotions feel the most exciting? I pretended to inspect the cuirass some more as I watched her surveying everyone. Yes, that determined beating of my heart definitely meant something. Without realising, I felt my eyes narrow as I glared at her. She wasn't to blame, I chastised myself. If he wanted her, then why should I stand in her way?

“Mia?” came a soft voice to the side of me, making me yelp slightly with surprise. “Sorry! I didn't mean to make you jump.” he squawked, holding his hands up quicky.  
“No, it's okay!” I laughed. Embarrassed at my own stupidity, I could feel a flush rising across my cheeks as I turned to look at him. He had black blood sprayed across his face and a cut across his left eyebrow that bled fresh crimson and ran down his face. Pulpy matter decorated his armour rather disgustingly but it was something I was quickly becoming used to. Still, despite the gore, he looked at me with a smile and a sparkle. Due to the intense physical exercise, I told myself. “Are you alright?” I asked, nodding to the cuts.  
“Oh, this? I asked them to do it.” he revealed, turning to me and whispering to me. “Makes me seem more manly to the ladies, you see. Don't tell anyone.”  
“Your secret is safe with me.” I smiled broadly.

I looked at his eyes and watched them stare back at me. They were just so … open and full of light. _Urgh,_ I berated myself, _that was disgustingly twee. Do not do that again._   Breaking my rampant grin down and packing it away, I smiled pleasantly enough but roughly calmed myself down.

“Look, can we talk for a moment?” I nodded. “I need to tell you something I, ah, should probably have told you earlier.” He sounds distressed, and so soon after a fight?  This was ominous.  
“What's on your mind?” I asked him in a friendly manner. If he was worried about something, then the last thing I should do as his friend was to make him feel more uncomfortable.  
“I told you before how Arl Eamon raised me, right? That my mother was a serving girl at the castle and he took me in?” I gave him a slow, encouraging nod. “The reason he did that was because … well, because my father was King Maric.” _Ohhh-kaaaay ..._ “Which made Cailan my … half-brother, I suppose.”

I knew I had seen Alistair's face before! Before I could think properly, my mind peppered me with horrific scenes, twisted and cutting in their violence. Cailan was at Ostagar too. Alistair had not only lost comrades and a leader, one who had plucked him from the Chantry and given him a purpose, but he had also lost a brother. My heart flew out to the man who stood there so simply in front of me, waiting for a response.

“Why did you wait to tell me this?” I asked, knowing he needed me to say something but not knowing what.  
“I would have told you, but … it never really meant anything to me. I was inconvenient, a possible threat to Cailan's rule and so they kept me secret.”

I just wanted to hug the man better. I knew he had had a horrible upbringing in the Chantry and before that, well, whatever he did say about Redcliffe wasn't complimentary about the Arlessa. However, mentions of the Arl did tend to bring a warm glow to his eye and I knew there was real fondness there. It wasn't often he spoke about him and I got the feeling something had happened, something horrible. He stood there so humbly but with a bearing that told me of countless days being berated and told off for a trick of birth he had no power over. It was in the way he nervously held his shoulders, as if I would fly off into a rage, as if he expected it for talking about it. Nothing could be further from the truth. My heart was full of compassion for that child. That small boy who knew he couldn't never be openly loved by his father, denied love from a mother figure, and packed away to a loveless monastery.

“I've never talked about it to anyone.” he said quietly.

Gratitude filled my heart that he had spoken about it to me. Maybe he wanted to report to his leader, make sure she had all the facts before going into a situation. After all, he had a lifetime's worth of soldier's training to fall back on.

“Everyone who knew either resented me for it or they coddled me … even Duncan kept me out of the fighting because of it. I didn't want you to know, as long as possible. I'm sorry.”

He looked so lost. I wanted to shake him out of his sorrow, to tell him to believe in himself more, but it was only because I suddenly felt the unutterable rage at countless people treating this poor man like a problem to be solved, and not taking him for the person he was. He couldn't help who his father was, nor his mother, and so answering for their dalliance was not his fault. It was only by the Maker's grace that I did not turn round and hit something. I didn't know how to react to him but I knew that I didn't care what he was, just who he was. Alistair had shown himself over the past few weeks to be a wonderful human being.

“I think I understand.” I nodded kindly to him.  
“Good. I'm glad.” he sighed with a silly smile, visibly relaxing. “It's not like I got any treatment for it, anyhow. At any rate, that's it. That's what I had to tell you. I thought you should know about it.”

The change in his bearing was obvious to anyone watching him. He stood up straighter and relaxed his shoulders, instead of hunching them. Even his eye shone a little brighter. I flattered myself that it was because I had accepted him, instead of rejecting him. He turned and walked a little way to a fence that separated us from an entrancing view of the valley beyond.

“Why tell me, then?” came the genuinely curious question as I followed him, turning round to lean back against the wooden fence strut. “Why do I need to know?”  
“Because it will probably come up. I didn't want to walk into Redcliffe without you knowing the truth, that would be just … awkward. I have no illusions about my status, however. It's always been made very clear that I'm a commoner and now a Grey Warden and in no way in line for the throne. And that's fine by me. No, if there's an heir to be found, it's Arl Eamon himself. He's not of royal blood, but he is Cailan's uncle, and more importantly, very popular with the people. Though, if he's really as sick as we've heard ... No, I don't want to think about that. I really don't.”

He looked out over the countryside with a distant stare as he gripped the fence. It wasn't fierce enough to turn his knuckles white but something troubled him. I gave him the room to tell me in his own time. If I was the leader – and I wasn't sure I wanted to be – then I needed to be friendly with the man, if only so he felt comfortable around me. I liked being around him. He must have garnered strength from somewhere as he outwardly calmed down, letting go of the fence and flexing blood back into his fingers.

“So there you have it. Now can we move on, and I'll just pretend you still think I'm some nobody who was too lucky to die with the rest of the Grey Wardens.”  
“You're here with me. I think I'm the lucky one.”

Once the words were out of my mouth, I felt good about them. I didn't retract from them, nor cringe at them, but I embraced them. He was special to me, and not just because he was the only other Grey Warden in Ferelden. I wondered whether I should have been so blatant but he was and there was no denying it. It didn't matter anyway. He wanted Morrigan and not me. Still, looking up at his amber eyes as he stared back at me, there was a warmth there that I couldn't deny. A simmering started in my stomach. Was it possible, just slightly possible, that he didn't like Morrigan after all?

“I …” he started, his voice low and emotional, “feel very unworthy of that. But thank you.”

And with that, he walked away from me. I stared after him, for a moment longer than perhaps I should have done. However, I forced myself to turn and go to talk to Sten. We needed to assess the weapons we had collected and whether we could get money for them. It was a necessarily mercenary job but we had no other method of funding ourselves. Anyway, it gave me a chance to ignore that warning in the pit of my stomach, and that thrill in my heart.

 

* * *

 

I was exhausted. We were all just exhausted.

Waves upon waves upon waves of undead had flowed out of the castle and the night had seemed interminable. Redcliffe village had stood firm at the onslaught and my fellow travellers and I had defended it as if one of our own was dying. By the time the sun was rising over Lake Calenhad, we had won another night's victory and we felt reborn. All around us, men celebrated as we watched the sun softly bathe their homes with another hard-won morning, safe in the knowledge that the undead were gone.

We had arrived at the castle and managed to fight our way through more corpses, only to reach the main hall and realise the extent of our problems. It was on this that my mind wandered as I readied myself for dinner. The Arlessa, Teagan, Connor, Arl Eamon – all perishing away before our eyes under the thrall of the demon so completely controlling their lives. It was a heartbreaking situation. Another journey would be undertaken in the morning, so soon after we had arrived. At least we would get one night with a full belly and a soft bed, and bolstered supplies for the ride to Kinloch Hold first thing tomorrow.

Making sure my armour was stored safely, and my twin blades secured, I closed the door and hurried along the corridor to the dining hall to find some food. The dress I wore was lovely. In fact it was more than lovely, it was beautiful and soft, and felt like it was made of green, billowing clouds after wearing a rogue's uniform. Yet after weeks on the road wearing armour that allowed me to move freely in battle, the dress still felt like a velvet prison. It had been wonderful to soak in a bath and get the blood out of my hair and the grunge out from under my fingernails. Oh, to be clean was the most delightful thing as I wallowed in the hot water, feeling my cares seep out of me with every groan I could muster.

As I walked the corridors with a hunger gnawing at my stomach, I thought less on the clothes I was wearing and more on the problems we were facing. Arl Eamon was sick and we needed him for the Landsmeet. In order to cure him, we needed to get near to him and this was being blocked by his demon-possessed son. To drive the demon out, we would have to travel to the Circle of Magi in the middle of Lake Calenhad to diplome with the enchanters who lived there, which would also include talks with the Templars who guarded them. My head pounded as I strode towards food and thought hard about what had to be done. It was a straight-forward series of events but it could take weeks, possibly months, to do. My stomach crunched as I fought against myself, willing my mind not to think about how close it would be for Arl Eamon if we had to do all these things, which we did.

“For goodness sake, Isolde, it was ten years ago!”

It was impossible to mistake the commanding voice of Bann Teagan as I passed a stout wooden door. Womens' shoes strode up and down, heels clipping loudly on the stone flag. Isolde moved quickly and from the rapidity of the sound, she moved with some passion. I shouldn't have listened but my curiousity got the better of me. I would pay for my treachery but the woman had made a powerful, if negative, impression on me in the short time I had been inside the castle. As we had stood in the main hall, having fought once again to save Isolde, she had treated Alistair with such utter disdain that it left me speechless.

“Teagan, he upsets Connor being here.” The Orlesian voice sounded a little less beautiful than it normally did, now I could hear it dripping with bile.  
“No, Isolde, he upsets you. If Eamon was awake, he would have welcomed Alistair with open arms. Instead, you are cold with him.”  
“Teagan, my child is being held by a demon! That is cause enough to ignore some bastard prince who arrives after ten years away, fairly demanding we help him!”  
“Isolde, you may hate the man but he is doing something far greater than fighting the undead. He is trying to stop a Blight, by Andraste's blood! He needs our help.” Bann Teagan was sounding more and more frustrated.  
“And he shall have it, after he helps Connor.” came the cold reply.  
“You would hold the world hostage for one boy?”

The sound of a loud slap echoed around the corridor, ringing in my ears as the silence grew. It was broken by soft mumbles and impassioned pleaing but the cadence and measure of the speaking, rapid and high-pitched, proved too much for my ears. It was just too soft to make out words.

“Please don't think that I am unsympathetic, Teagan, but my mind is with Connor now.”  
“As any good mother's should be.” Teagan's evident patience kept his voice level and calm. How I didn't know as I was ready to fight her myself. “If you will excuse me, Arlessa Isolde, I will leave you now.”  
“Bann Teagan.”

I moved away quickly, just in time to avoid being flattened by the door that opened violently on to the corridor. Stepping back, I was able to hide behind the door and watch as he stalked away from me, spewing mutterings into the air. He was a level-headed man who clearly cared very much for his sister-in-law and nephew, and his loyalty for his brother did him credit. However, this stubbornness of the Arlessa's would be costly for us. The door swung shut quietly and I made my move down the carpeted hallway.

The dining room was full by the time I arrived and it pained me to see it. However, confusion befell me when they all rose as I entered the room. It slowed my step but I continued up the space between the tables and waiting eyes, desperate to sit down and escape them. If this was the custom to rise for every guest that entered it would be a long evening. I sat down next to Leliana.

“Urm, you are welcome to join us, of course.” she said, rather too stiffly polite for my liking. I noticed she exchanged looks with those sat around her.  
“Thank you.”

A general hum began and as I looked over my shoulder, I noticed several of the dinner guests sneaking looks at me and whispering with their neighbours.

“Leliana, why are people looking at us? Is Redcliffe so unwelcoming?”  
“They are not staring at us, Mia, but you.”  
“Me? Why?”  
“Because you have chosen to sit with us.”  
“Why wouldn't I?”  
“I think the Arl was expecting you to sit with him.” she said tactfully. “You're the sister of the Teyrn of Highever. You're the highest ranking person in this room, Mia. They are trying to honour you.”

I looked around me, trying to be subtle but failing miserably. I had a brother?

“I think it would be wise to go and sit with them.” she prompted quietly to which I did. I rose and walked with a measured pace to the top table where I was greeted by the Arlessa and offered a chair.

I spent the next hour in complete discomfort. The table was laden with food and wine, which was delightful and I definitely took my fill, yet the company was painful. The table seated Arlessa Isolde, Bann Teagan, and a handful of Knights. Connor was not present, neither was the Arl. Consequently nothing could be decided for definite. The Arlessa was quiet yet polite when spoken to. However, her face betrayed the cares of someone deeply worried. It was understandable; both her son and her husband were being held captive, in their own way. It was hideous the way that she had treated Alistair and the resentment that she held after all this time was blinding. I gritted my teeth for the time I was forced to endure such company. Bann Teagan was lovely and more than made up for the other nobles that sat around the table. He was witty and entertaining, and wasn't ingratiatingly sycophantic towards me. I was apparently the sister to someone important but no-one once mentioned me, only my brother and his role as the Teyrn. 'Just' the sister, how infuriating. And I didn't even know who that person was. I had no memories of him, nor Highever, only the two players from a fading nightmare whom I understood to be my parents. The Blight was not mentioned in such polite company either, so my role as Grey Warden was ignored too. Occasionally I would catch the eye of Leliana and would groan at her with a conspiratorial smile, hoping that she would see in my face how excruciating I found it.

It was yet another hour before I could escape. Alistair was not in the room and I wondered whether it was because of the reception he had been given. His absence made me worried.

“Bann Teagan, do you happen to know where my fellow Grey Warden is?” I asked discretely.

With a wry smile that he quickly tried to hide behind a bent forefinger, he spoke quietly.

“He'll be in the kitchens.”  
“Why is that funny?” I asked, perplexed.  
“Forgive me, it is not funny but he could always be found in the kitchens when he lived here. Ten years have passed and the man has not changed. I was amused by that, and that only. Please don't think I was mocking him.”  
“I don't. Not at all.”  
“Go, if you want to find him. People will take it as their cue to leave if they see you walk out and I can tell there are more than a few tired shoulders and hearts here.”  
“Thank you.”

I rose and after thanking the Arlessa for her hospitality, I walked out and went to find the kitchens. I entered a room of people celebrating successfully preparing, cooking and serving a delicious meal. There was coarse banter and in the few seconds before they noticed that I stood by the door, I drunk in the revellry. A maid almost ran into me as she tried to leave the room. Her gasp shocked a nearby servant, who in turn tried to still the kitchen, and so it rippled across the room.

“I'd like to thank you for cooking a most wonderful meal. It was an honour to eat it.”  
“You're welcome.” a rotund woman with russet-coloured cheeks said. She spoke with a kind of confidence that comes from being entirely comfortable of her surroundings and company. I assumed she was the cook, such was the easiness with which she simply existed in the kitchen.  
“I was told I might find the Grey Warden Alistair in here. Have you seen him?”

Without a word, she raised a finger and pointed to one corner where a large fireplace stood and played host to a modest fire, one made to warm kettles of stew but not to cook large meats on. In front of it, slunk down on a wooden chair and staring past the flames, was Alistair. His cheek rested on an elbow propped up by an arm of the chair and the other arm dangled over the other, idly holding a glass. As I drew closer, I could see that his brow was knitted. His eyes were so focused on something other than the flames that I could practically see the memories floating across his vision, mingled with the problems of the day and the cares of the fate of Ferelden. No wonder he held a drink. There was a small stool that I pulled up and sat on, just feet away.

“Alistair?” I gently asked when he didn't seem to notice my presence.

It took him a while to look up at me but when he did, I could see that his mind was set as seriously as I'd ever seen him, not the foolish man who spouted daft things and prattled on happily. His usually grinning mouth was pressed flat, almost curving down at the corners into a frown, and his eyes creased in tune with the weighty matters he was dealing with inside. “Are you okay?”

“The kitchens in Redcliffe are some of the best in the country. Did you know that?” he asked, dodging my question. I shook my head silently. “The best, and they have the most wonderful cheeses. Oh, the things I've tasted in this room! Special, special food.” he tried to smile but it was flat and dull. There was none of the usual sparkle there at all.  
“I'm glad you're comfortable here, in this room.”  
“And do you want to know something truly awful? They have no crackers to enjoy the cheese with! Fancy that. I tried to ask earlier. Nothing. Can't get the staff!” came the hollow admonishment as he turned back to stare at the fire.

Taking a sip from the glass, he watched the memories in his head play out but said nothing to me. I took up looking at the fire as well for a moment and thought about the boy Alistair was trying to avoid remembering. That ten year old who he assumed had disappointed everyone.

“Do you remember leaving?” I gently asked.  
“Yes. Every moment. I didn't want to but I was never going to tell Arl Eamon that I was desperate to stay, if only because it would have meant someone wanted me somewhere. The Arlessa resented the rumours that pegged me as his – Eamon's – bastard. They weren't true, but of course they existed. The Arl didn't care, but she did.  I just wanted someone to say to me that I was important.” He pushed himself up the back of the chair so he was seated properly, a little higher. “So off I was packed to the nearest monastery at age ten. Just as well. The Arlessa made sure the castle wasn't a home to me by that point. She despised me.” he told me quietly, taking a mouthful of his drink.  
I was trembling with anger as I listened to this. Only willpower kept me from saying something horrible about her. “What an awful thing to do to a child.”  
“Maybe. She felt threatened by my presence, I can see that now. I can't say I blame her. She wondered if the rumours were true herself, I bet.” he said, his mouth pulling up slightly in a hollow effort to smile, before his mouth and eyes fell completely. “I remember I had an amulet with Andraste's holy symbol on it. The only thing I had of my mother's. I was so furious at being sent away I tore it off and threw it at the wall,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut as he relived the anger of those memories, swiftly followed by a wave of pain, “and it _shattered_. Stupid, stupid thing to do.” he cursed.  
“You were young.” I tried to tell him, desperate to soothe him. Should I reach out my hand? I wanted to.  
“And raised by dogs.” he sighed, draining the rest of his drink in one gulp and forcing himself to be brighter. “Anyway, it's not Thursdays. Not the day for sullen mutterings before bright fires.”

He turned and leant his chin on his hand, staring at me with eyes that had been forced to be bright. It was obvious that that part of the conversation was over.

“So, tell me about yourself. Are you remembering any more?” he prompted gently.  
“Well, I've just spent the past three hours being the sister of the Teyrn of Highever. Not Mia Cousland, oh no, but the sister of the Teyrn.”  
“That must have been thrilling.” he smiled.  
“Oh yes. To be so defined by who your family is and not who you are. Can you think of anyone who might understand my situation?” I brightly asked. Alistair burst out laughing. A hearty, genuine laugh. Not one that had been closeted and forced out politely but a true, deep laugh. It made me warm inside as I heard it and when he turned to me with a look of such deep understanding, I knew he was back with me. My Alistair, the one who tried to make me smile every day, he was the one looking at me with those wonderfully sparkling eyes. I couldn't help but beam back at him as I laughed along.

"So why didn't you come to dinner?"  
"Was I even missed?"

I stayed resolutely quiet with shame at the way he had been ignored.

"I missed you." I spoke truthfully.

He smiled again at me, warmly and deep with meaning.

“Mia, thank you.” he finally said.  
My smile slowed down to a confused smirk. “What for?”  
“When we arrived today, I had almost wondered if I'd ever been away. Once we were out of the hall, everyone went back to ignoring me, apart from those in here.”

I bent my head and avoided his eyes, lest he see how angry the way he had been treated made me.

“You're the only one who came to look for me today. Thank you.”

Looking up at first out of the corner of my eye, I turned to face him slowly.  The fire lit the side of his face as he looked at me with warmth that I couldn't have dreamed of, but there it was. If I could have leant forward and kissed him then and there I would have done. Forget Morrigan and that diplomatic problem. I was ready to tell her to go fuck herself and kiss him. But I couldn't. Slowly, surely, that intense connection that had been made as we looked at each other started to fade. I looked away first.  Oooh, this was not good.  I couldn't deal with this now, not this heart-pounding, head-spinning feeling.  This was not good at all.   _No, it really, really is, and it isn't going away so deal with it._ My mind was right.  I would have to deal with it sooner or later.  Accepting it would be the first thing to do, then I could move right into squirreling it away and pretending it wasn't there whilst watching him and Morrigan fall in love.  Then I could go deal with the Blight, or had I forgotten that in the space of time it took for him to smile at me?  I needed to say something.  Anything to show him that I was still here.   _Damn your fine eyes, Alistair Theirin, but I think I would do anything for you._

“You're welcome.”


	5. That moment, right there

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having fought past the Fade, past the Sloth demon, the group meet new dangers at the top of Kinloch Hold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only a short one this time. Love this guy.

This could have been me.

My mind just stopped working. I couldn’t breathe as I stared at the crumbling man behind the blue shimmering field. Tremendous pain coursed through his body, evident in the shaking unwillingness to move a muscle. His shoulders heaved up and down in slow, laboured breaths. He was bent over and hiding his face from us but from the uniform and armour it was obvious, horrifically, that he was a Templar. As Mia gently approached the wavering blue that held him fast, he looked up wildly and stared at her, his features contorted and his jaw clenched.

“This trick again? I know what you are. It won’t work. I will stay strong …” he moaned, his voice cracking from holding onto his strength for so long.  
“What’s going on? Who are you?” she asked gently, her palms open and welcoming.  
“The boy is exhausted. And this cage … I’ve never seen anything like it.” Wynne marvelled. I felt a flush of anger at her wonder at the magic. This man was in pain and she was dissecting the arcane that held him?  “Rest easy, help is here.” she soothed.  
“Enough visions. If anything in you is human … kill me now and stop this game.” came the agonisingly broken plea.

My heart went out to this man that cowered before us, separated by magicks and demons that we could not see. He was in the thrall of some awful arts and could not escape. I wracked my brains for something that I could do but I was so incensed at his caging that I could neither move nor reason properly.

“He’s delirious. He’s been tortured … and has probably been denied food and water. I can tell.” Leliana’s soft voice came from where she stood next to me.

 _How!?_   I wanted to scream. _How can you tell? Have_ you _been in that position? Have_ you _been subject to that horror? NO? Then shut, the fuck, up!_   I was not rational. The deep connection from a shared background that I had with this man was making me crazy. I wanted to lash out at anything, just to have something to focus my rage on. Looking around the room for anything to break him out, any kind of key or switch, or maybe even the mage that was controlling the prison, I could see nothing. Nothing. Just pulsing, bloody bags of gore that grew down the walls from the door at the top of the stairs, throbbing darkly and dripping foul pink juices. My shoulders hunched up with anger and fear as I saw a human, a body pinned and displayed with evil intent, over the door. This wasn’t gore, this wasn’t violence, this wasn’t even mindless slaughter; this was horror, and it was dragging us down to its own level.

“Here, I have a skin of …” Leliana proffered.  
“Don’t touch me! Stay away!” the man screamed before descending to pitiful moans laced with anger. “Filthy blood mages … getting in my head … I will not break … I’d rather die.”  
“Calm down. You’re safe now.” Mia calmed, moving a little closer to the barrier. He looked at her wide-eyed before curling up again.  
“Silence …” he mewled, “I’ll not listen to anything you say. Now begone!” he pleaded before looking around him. There was a spark of defiant hope in his eyes. “Still here? But that’s always worked before. I close my eyes, but you’re still here when I open them.” He slowly uncurled his body and stood up, gingerly looking around him for anything distressing.  
“I’m real, and I’m here to help you.” she patiently explained.  
“Don’t blame me for being cautious. The voices … the images … so real …” he shuddered as he stared past Mia. “Did Greagoir send you? How … how did you get here?”  
“I’m a Grey Warden, and I’m trying to help save the tower.”  
“Good …” he said before his voice changed into poison. “Kill Uldred. Kill them all for what they’ve done. They caged us like animals … looked for ways to break us. I’m the only one left …” His eyes grew wide as he stared at the unseen horrors in his memories. “They turned some into … monsters. And … there was nothing I could do.”

I could feel my throat closing in cold pity and swift, rageful anger. My fists flexed and settled on the pommel of my sword, acute anger curling my fingers around the handle ready for fighting something. Mia looked over her shoulder at me, nodding her head as if to ask if I was alright. I caught her eye and glowered darkly, not at her – I would have to apologise for that later – but at the situation, and nodded. I felt a swell of gratitude that she had thought of me in this horrific situation.

“You must stay strong.” she turned back to the Templar and urged, willing him to be courageous.

I heard them talking but it drifted over me as I fought to keep the rising panic from my mind. Here were mages capable of taking down Templars – the very men created to stop them. I had almost been one of these, almost taken those vows, so this filled me with dread. What was I about to face? I had just been caught in the nightmare world of the Fade, been duped and my mind twisted, so much so that I had almost been trapped there. This world of magic felt so much of a stranger to me that it scared me. I had almost made that transition to fighting them for a living. I could have been here. Thank goodness for Duncan. With that memory, pain ripped through me all the more.

“Irving and the other mages who fought Uldred. Where are they?” Wynne’s voice broke through the ache and I pulled myself back to their conversation.  
“They are in the Harrowing Chamber. The sounds coming out of there … oh, Maker …”

An infernal scream, a scream only those in true pain could issue, ripped down the stairs and stunned us all into silent terror. Our heads immediately turned, almost all as one, to the door at the top of the stairs. My heart began to beat all the faster, fear driving it on but also a need to rescue those trapped there.

It was Mia that ran first, and I turned to follow closely on her heels. I bounded up the stairs two steps at a time and we stopped at the top. She stood and stared at me, perilously close.

“Take Uldred out first." she whispered.  "When we go in, I want Alistair hitting him and keeping him distracted. Leliana, take out those on the edge and in the shadows. You’re good at that. I’ll be hitting them for six as well but I need to focus on using the Litany. Wynne, this is where you come in. You know the healing drill but keep an eye out for any demons that are bound to pop through from the Fade. If you’re standing on the edge then keep an eye out for Uldred trying to raise mages from the floor if I’m distracted.”

Wynne nodded seriously. I stayed but nodded my assent when she looked my way. We had faced abominations all the way up the Tower; indeed, the guts and blood sprayed across her armour showed Mia had most viscerally destroyed them. She took a deep breath and looked straight into my eyes. I could see fear there but a strong determination not to break. She needed this.

“Let’s go.”

And she stepped through the door.

 

* * *

 

“Wynne!” I cried through the anger and adrenaline, desperate to get her attention.

All around me, abominations attacked and railed. Lightning crackled the air and magic pulsed through my body, attacking the Templar parts that I held inside, as Uldred fought and controlled the room. My peripheral vision wavered as my arm hung limply at my side, dripping blood onto the floor. It was a mercy it was not my sword arm; that, it still gripped my sword which I heaved through the air to bite deep into an abomination’s torso. I was off-balance, forcing me to stumble backwards a few paces, but the cut was true and the being collapsed to the floor, spewing black innards all over the floor in waves. I hefted my good arm wildly around and cut the blade into it’s neck, sending it rolling over the floor.

“Wynne! Please!” came my desperate cry. I could not fight properly against these beings if I could not balance. “I need healing!”

Warmth spread like a blessed song, exploding up my arm and knitting together tissue and bone. I didn’t even have the time to check if it would work, I just had to trust that it would. Uldred, or the demon that had taken him over, pounded the floor as it moved towards where Mia artfully dodged around its flailing limbs, nicking skin and muscle where she could. I ran over to where they danced this critical battle. Winding up, I whirled round, coiling energy into my sword arm and bringing it to bear on Uldred’s thigh. He cried and lashed out to me but I ducked the attack and lunged the point upwards, hoping to find the softness under the ribs that protruded through his skin. The point deflected off the scales and I grimaced under the almighty thud of his fist hitting the floor in fury.

Behind me, I heard Wynne cry out to Mia. I couldn’t even afford the few seconds it would take to turn and see what she was running to. I could guess though as I felt the draining waves of demonic magic surging to a point off to my right. Within seconds, the countering surges of the Litany’s power swept against it. Caught in the middle, my Templar senses were almost overloaded and pain ricocheted through my head. Gritting my teeth, I channelled the anger into a series of cuts and jabs that pierced the scales of the beast before me. My plan was to attack the thigh, hoping to skewer the veins there. I didn’t even know if demons had the same flow as humans but I knew how it could be fatal to people. Hacking and cutting, I fought ever forward. Once I could see blood, the red mist descended. Faster and faster, stronger and stronger, flew my arms such was my desperate need to see the demon vanquished. Another swipe from its monstrous claws forced me to jump back. Steadying myself, I lunged forward again. My aim was good and the metal of the blade slid almost effortlessly up into its groin. Out pumped thick, viscous blackness.

Uldred threw his head back and roared. An unholy fist swung round and caught me full in the chest, sending me flying backwards. I crashed to the floor but pushed myself up quickly, queasiness making my senses dull. Staying on the floor was not an option. Jumping up, my head spun and I looked around to get my bearings. Wynne held ground against an abomination that battled to even get near her. It suddenly froze, blue ice holding it tight, before a powerful stone shot flew from the healer and shattered it. Mia had returned to trying to slice open the strong armour that defended Uldred. Sparks flew as she dashed and sliced, ducked and cut, waving her daggers with deadly grace. She spun and jumped, landing on Uldred’s chest with impaling blades before pushing off with her nimble legs and jumping backwards. She landed low to the ground, as graceful as I’ve ever seen anyone, smiling a wickedly devilish smile.

For a split second, I caught her eye. There was a wild fire there that I had never seen before. It was focus.  It was death. She had the cold beauty of a merciless killer, bent on the annihilation of her prey. It was magnetic. I had to wrench my eyes away before I was hacked down by more abominations.

“Mia!” came the cry from behind.

I had no time to check before another massive arm of Uldred's swung past my face, inches from crushing my skull and knocking me over like a meadow flower. It was preternatural but I ducked low and under it, stabbing upwards. A howl of fury told me clearly that I had hit my mark as warm blood splashed over my face. I spat out what I could and blinked the rest away, wiping my vision clear. The wrist hung by a tendon and I took my opportunity to sever it quickly. The floor was slick with liquid but I held my ground as I hacked away with my sword. My shield took a batter as I lifted it against the claws that tried to claw frustratedly at me. The demon was almost defeated. It was getting desperate now. The smell of sulphur and fire filled the air as lightning crackled over its skin. I could tell Wynne’s touch as it reeled frantically.

“Alistair, down!” came Mia’s scream.

I obeyed instinctively, knowing what she was to do. I dropped and braced myself against the floor, hearing quick footsteps. Moments later, I felt a foot on my back yet I was amazed at how light she was. Maybe it was rogue training but I barely felt the weight of a full grown woman using me as a vault as she sprang forward onto the chest of the beast. Using embedded daggers to claw her way, she fought her way up as blood sprayed out over her. Another spurt as she climbed further and further until she was at his face. He opened his maw to roar but she clung on to one blade and grabbed at his jaw. Using her evident strength, it was wrenched out with a gristly pop and it hung limply to one side. Grabbing one of her daggers, she rammed it into Uldred’s throat and jaggedly wrenched it across the soft flesh of its exposed neck. With an almighty gush, blood sprayed out across the Harrowing Chamber, coating everything in its path with a sticky red slime.

Mia dropped gracefully to the floor, and walked away as if she was strolling in a garden as the mighty beast crashed to the ground behind her. Even at this distance, I staggered as I felt the thud. She even had the balls to brush her hands off, as if getting rid of crumbs from a cake. She caught my eye with a cheeky wink and smiled in exhausted victory.

That moment, right there, was when I fell completely and utterly, irreparably and totally, in love with her.


	6. Of course I remembered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mia tries to sort out some emotional turmoil in her life. She returns something to Alistair that should have been his a long time ago.

I winked. I fucking _winked._

For the hundredth time, I felt the flush of embarrassment creep up my neck and nearly choke me, such was my mortification at what I had done. Gesturing with my hands, I stared at the events in my mind and watched them play before me yet once again. When it came to me killing Uldred and jumping down before I got crushed, I caught Alistair's eye and winked. What was I thinking? I shook my head in self-rebuke and stared out across the water.

We were taking the ferry from Kinloch Hold, across Lake Calenhad, to Redcliffe. It would take the journey from six long days to just under one, depending on the wind. We had left under cover of darkness, surrounded by a fleet of fishermen ready to try for the morning’s catch. Our flotilla had slowly veer off to closely guarded secret patches, bit by bit, until it was just us slowly making our way southward. Travelling by boat had been provided by care of the Ferelden Circle of Magi, sanctioned by Irving, as a way of saying thank you for clearing the tower of its dire inhabitants. Irving had insisted it was the least they could do. Morrigan had pointedly questioned about being allowed access to their archives as well but both Irving and Wynne had chuckled condescendingly at her request, further enraging the apostate.

I thought on this as I sat behind the wooden crate, high on the forecastle and facing the oncoming water, revelling in the air that rushed at my face. I shut my eyes and allowed the cares to drift away. If anyone came to talk to me, I claimed that it was because the fresh air calmed my seasickness. In truth, I was hiding from Alistair.

Oh fuck, the wink. Once again, a little bit of me died inside as I curled up in embarrassment. It wasn’t the fact that I had flirted. It was vulgar way I had done it, wanting to be calm and collected yet aloof and mysterious. An shudder ran through me. He had stared a little at the time and I thought I had detected a fleeting look of disgust, but his face had become calm very quickly. It was then that the pit of embarrassment had taken my stomach into freefall.

“If you're feeling better, there is food being served, Mia.” I heard a soft Orlesian voice call out from behind the crates.

As if in answer, my stomach grumbled a harsh agreement that it was indeed time to eat. I hadn’t realised how hungry I was until I pulled myself up and stood to join her. Leliana waited at the top of the small set of steps with a friendly smile and I gave a flat, toneless smile back as I walked up to her.

“Are you okay?” she asked kindly. “Feeling any better?”

I just nodded silently at her, feigning a blanched pallor. It quickly elicited a look of compassion. Adding to the lie, I gingerly made my way down the steps, holding on very carefully to the rail.

“You really should have insisted that we take the Imperial Highway, you know.” she softly chastised, ready at my elbow to catch me should I faint.  
“And what good would that do?” my cracked voice said, faked for further authenticity. “We’d be there in a week rather than a day. Arl Eamon needs us. He does not have the time for me to dally around riding a slow horse, rather than taking a fast cog.”  
“But still, you look terrible.” _Thanks. I am actually faking this but you’re telling me I look like shit anyway? Brilliant. Just what I needed._  
“Why should I care what I look like?” I looked up at her with a feigned smile, desperate to look as if I was about to vomit on her shoes.  
“You stay here.” she said, directing me to sit on a small chest. “I’ll fetch you some food, you dear thing.”

I slunk down on to the low box and put my head in my hands. Instead of actually throwing my stomach contents all over my boots like she thought I would, I took the opportunity to inspect my greaves. From what I could tell, the only visible dents were superficial and would not take long to batter out with a small hammer. The buckles were sound, from what I could see the padding was sound, and asides from a coating of dried blood – of which I had tried to scrub off – the entire thing was sound.

I would have turned my attention to my boots had not a shadow fallen over them. Looking up slowly and ready to play my part, my stomach fell for real as I saw Alistair standing there, a bowl of stew in an outstretched hand.

“Here. There is bread if you can’t face stew.” came the quiet voice.

A small smile turned up the corner of his mouth, but it was only barely there. More polite than anything else, one that would be thrown to a leader but not to a friend, and certainly not to anything more.

“Thank you.” I said as I reached out for it, forcing my hand to shake a little. I grasped it and quickly bought it down to my lap. With honesty, it smelt amazing and I genuinely was ravenous. This would end up very quickly in my stomach if I was alone. I rose to try and walk back to my hiding spot. I could truly eat quickly then, without fear of my ruse being discovered.  As I stood up, fortuitously the boat gave a small lurch and I stumbled, quite by accident.  
“Woah there.” he called out quickly, starting forward as I stood up. With a dextrous hand, he took the bowl out of my hands and caught my upper arm, thinking I was going to collapse. “Leave the carrying to me. Fear not, fair lady, your food will arrive intact.”

Now I was feeling faint. I was supposed to be strong and together, not some moping, lovestruck idiot from a bard’s tavern tale. However, his action was gentlemanly and now his hand was wrapped around my arm. I felt my head fizz as I looked at his fingers curling around my arm. _Get a fucking grip!_ I told myself. _This is not the time to go to shit._ He didn’t say a word as he gently guided me back up to the forecastle and to my hiding spot in front of the crates. Slowly I sat down. When I was comfortable, he handed me the bowl. I was just about to look up and thank him but he had disappeared. My eyes closed with humiliation. Why would he disappear so quickly unless he didn’t want to be with me? My head leant back against the wood as I fought to keep him from my mind.

“I asked myself why our fearless leader would be hiding up here alone. Tis an odd thing, to hide away when you are ill, with no-one to look after you.”  
“If you wish to join me, Morrigan, you just had to ask.” I said, taking a big spoon of my food. I saw no need to pretend with her as she had so obviously seen through my deceit. I looked up to see her perched on the back of the crate behind my head.  
“If you are so ill, I would have thought a skilled healer such as Wynne would be able to cure you. Why not ask her, or at least invite her to join you?” I sat in silence, chewing fish and thinking on my response to such an obvious question. “Could it be that there is some other reason for your absence?” came the teasingly malicious voice.  
“What do you want?” I asked, frustrated in her attempts to mark her territory.  
“I want nothing.” the high and dangerously lilting voice told me. “Merely to engage in conversation.”  
“Balls you do.”  
“My, my. And so well born. Tsk.”  
“Do we need to talk, Morrigan?” I spat, angry at being hounded in so small an area, glancing up at her with a glare.  
“On what?” she paused to say.  
“About Alistair.”  
“And what about him? We could discuss his staggering intellect, if you would like, or his ability to lead fearlessly and with great forethought. Twould be a short conversation.”  
“You know what I mean.”

I turned around to face her, sitting back on my heels and holding her eye fearlessly.

“I’m not sure I …” An eyebrow raised to question me, before her eyes grew large. “Oh, wait a perfect moment …”

Then she started to laugh. A deep, rich and infinitely grating laugh that spoke of patronising mirth and discovery. Mirth that I was sure, as the laugh grew louder, that I would come to regret. Taste leeched out of my food as the realisation poured into my system.

She didn't. I did. And now she knew. _Excellent._

I forced myself to chew and ignore the laughter as she walked away, still giggling. The stew was finished off and I drained the last drops of stock from the bottom. Delicious. I put my bowl to one side and stared out to sea, a sated stomach being ticked off my list of problems.

I now had an apostate mage tickled pink that she had discovered a major bugbear with which to tease me. There was also an unbelievably gorgeous man in my merry band of adventurers who happened to be the only other Grey Warden in Ferelden, to our knowledge. I couldn't escape him, neither would I want to. Elves had to be found and convinced, despite their distrust of humans. The Arl of Redcliffe, one of the influences we would want healthy enough to support us at any Landsmeet, was ill and poisoned by a blood mage, possibly irreparably so. We had to travel underground into the heart of the Frostback Mountains and convince the dwarves of the importance of joining our cause. Despite all of this, we had to find and kick the shit out of a Ferelden general and legend, so loved he was known as a hero. Oh, and then there was the small matter of stopping and killing an Archdemon.

For fuck's sake.

 

* * *

 

Right, so to add to the list of problems, we now had to find an artefact that centuries old rumours say doesn’t exist, and probably never did. As I dropped my bracers gently on to the floor next to where I sat, I grinned at the absurdity of it all.  

What had become of my life?

I had sat down with Alistair one night in camp and made him tell me all that had happened. I knew my parents had been murdered but I didn’t know by whom, as Alistair didn’t either. I knew that I was the daughter of the old Teyrn of Highever, before he was killed anyway. My brother was called Fergus and he was away fighting in the Ferelden army. Alistair kindly told me all that he knew, but it was third-hand information. He had been told by Duncan before he died. However, I could remember none of it, yet. Aside from the nightmare, I didn’t even know what my parents looked like. It was safe to guess that they were the two kindly people from that dark dream. Alistair had been most gracious in handing over this information but was acutely aware that he didn’t know who was responsible for it. Apologies tripped from his mouth very readily.

We were two days out of Redcliffe on our way to Denerim to look for a priest that the Arl had been funding. I was eager to see the capital and its excitement.

“The pig is done.” stated Sten’s deep voice as it boomed across the campsite we had set up.

Grateful that my patrol was done, and so was my food, I dragged myself to standing and went to find a chunk of meat to rip my teeth into. We had supplies enough to have some bread with it and canteens full of water. However, what I wouldn’t have given for some rum or whiskey to warm me up. On our last night, Redcliffe had served a most delicious hot, spiced rum which, to my shame, I had drunk too much of and woken up the next morning with a pounding head. The open air of the road had soon sorted it out.

Sten ripped me off a chunk of wild boar, along with some chewy crackling, and handed it to me in a wooden bowl. I retrieved a small loaf of bread from our stocks and tore it in half. But I stopped. I had a problem that there was a chance of solving. Glancing up at Morrigan sat all by herself, I walked over somewhat fearfully.

“Here’s some food, Morrigan.” With an attempt at friendliness, I held the bowl out with a smile, almost as if tempting a rabid dog with a juicy bone. She was still a wild animal to me, dangerous and unknown. There may have been access to my secrets but it didn't mean I couldn't be friendly with her, or try anyway. She looked up at my offering and after wrinkling her forehead with confusion, turned back to the fire.

“My thanks.” she said quietly.

I retrieved a second portion from Sten, much to his disapproval, and went to talk to Leliana for a while.

“Is there anything you can think about that we could talk, that doesn’t involve the word ‘Blight’?” I asked, groaning from aches and pains as I sat down. Leliana giggled at my question softly. We had both made it a mission to spend at least a portion on of every day talking about trivialities to relax our mind. Usually it was on the beasts that we saw on our passing, or her history. It was absolutely fascinating. Leliana was quickly becoming a close friend and confidante. Something about her mannerisms told me I could trust her with anything.

“Books?”

A deep pain curled my stomach as I thought on the sudden image of a fire and hearing a man’s voice reading to me. I shook my head and said nothing, instead taking a bite of the deliciously juicy boar that Sten had roasted. The skin had crackled beautifully and I crunched into it quickly, a trickle of fat running down my cheek. Embarrassed at myself, it was quickly wiped away.

“Flowers?”  
“I know nothing on flowers, I’m afraid. Okay, when you get to Denerim, what’s the first thing you will do?”  
“Oh, that’s easy. I will go shopping. I need a new dagger guard. The leather on my one has grown a little too thin.”  
“We all need various supplies. It will be nice to spend some time wandering the streets and inspecting the vendors. Just … relax.”  
“I will look for some new shoes!” she suddenly said very excitedly. “Pretty ones, with flowers on. Maybe made of Orlesian silk.” Leliana grabbed her knees and grinned.  
“Shoes? Can you afford some of those?” I laughed, delighting in her ability to ignore the chaos of the world around her.  
“Oh no, definitely not. But I can look.”  
“I might join you. It would be lovely to forget our cares for a few hours.”  
“Well, join me. I know of the most darling little shoe shop in all of Ferelden. We will go together.”

I smiled as I finished off my dinner. Taking a swig from my canteen, I then proferred it to Leliana who refused it. Appearing from over a little hillock, Alistair grabbed some food and then went to sit down on a rock nearby. An involuntary serious sigh escaped through my nose, followed by a strained silence as I took another drink. I knew Leliana would have noticed the fall in my countenance.

“Or,” Leliana prompted gently, “we could talk about … love?”  
“And why would we talk about that?” I said, determined to ignore her subtle provocations.  
“Oh, my dear friend. Love is the Maker’s blessing on us all. Proof beyond anything that he adores us.”  
“We have travelled together for nearly a month now, eh? You and I, Leliana? Surely I can trust you.”  
“The secrets that I hold within my soul would shock the Maker himself.” she stated very plainly, and perhaps a little unnervingly as she held my eye. “I am the soul of discretion and loyalty.”  
“I am not sure of what I feel.” came the dishonest answer.

The truth was that I knew what I felt but that I was unsure of how to proceed. What would I say to him? That I thought of him constantly? That his smile had the ability to break my concentration to the point of ruin? That even having him around made my head dizzy, with joy that he was near and with grief that I wasn't entangled in his arms? _I love him, Leliana. There is no more you need to know._

“We will face death at every turn on this journey towards our fate. Is the world so full of love that we can ignore blessings when they are in front of us?” _Wise words, indeed. Maybe I could talk to you after all. It would be good to have a second opinion. But not right now._ “Maybe not tonight, dear one, but I am always here for you.”  
“Thank you. Now about those shoes...”

We spent the rest of the night talking of nothing to do with the Blight; of fashions, of art and of songs. She sang throughout the evening and it was pleasant to have something to listen to. Soothing melodies made me drowsy and relaxed, or maybe that was her aim, as before long I was sound asleep. My last thoughts were of him though and how I was to solve that problem. Was he even a problem to be solved? He wasn't, the _situation_ was. With a relaxing lullaby playing me to sleep, the next thing I knew I awoke in the early hours of the morning. A sky of night stars still lay above me and with sleepy eyes only half open, I rolled over on my mat and pulled the blanket further up me. As I dozily drifted off to sleep, the thought that someone else had kindly covered me drifted through my mind only to melt away with the sleep that ensued.

I woke for real as dawn was growing slowly in the east. The fire had gone out properly and wasn't even smoking now. Stretching and yawning, the small lake that we had spied nearby called to me and with a lazy smile, I realised that a swim and a bathe would be wonderful. I took a drag of water from my canteen, the night air having my parched my throat. This early, the chances that I wouldn't have to swim with a clingy undershirt on made me rise quietly and walk out of camp. No-one was disturbed as I softly padded out and towards the water.

It would be a glorious day. Already the chill of night was disappearing and with the sunrise, the dew that clung to the flowers and grasses was soft and wonderful against my bare feet. I smiled slowly as I happily ambled towards my destination. The cares of the day were yet to catch up with my freshly woken mind. There was a haze in the light that softly fell on everything, lending a romantic and dreamy freshness to the start of the day. Still not yet crystal clear, but light enough to see around me. It was beautiful. I crested a small hill that held the lake on the other side.

And stopped.

And stared.

Alistair stood with his back to me, barefoot on the shores of the lake. He was staring out across the water, not moving, and I ached at the view in front of me. Without saying a word, and unaware that I was there, he lifted his shirt and pulled it over his head.

_Oh Maker._

It was impossible to describe the perfection of the man's body. Muscles rippled under the skin of his broad, now naked, back. Two strong, powerful arms that looked as if they were able to rip an ogre's head from its body dropped the linen shirt on the ground next to him. As he put his hands on the top of his trousers, time seemed to slow down and my breath caught in my chest. Should I call out to him and warn him, or let him take all his clothes off? There was a small part of me that wanted to be devilish but he would have been mortified. Fortunately I was saved the awkwardness of solving this particular issue. An animal or some such must have run through the scrub to his left and he looked up quickly at the noise, only to see something much bigger out of the corner of his eye. With a yelp, he turned round to face me. It lit a fire under me and only now did I jump out of the stupor that had held me.

“Mia!”  
“I'm sorry … I didn't … I swimmed to want … no, wait … you were just here and I didn't know …” came the inane stutterings. “I'm just going to go.”

I turned on my heels, now mortified, and went to walk back to the camp. What had I been thinking!? Cheeks flushed and fingers flexed as I fought to get the shame of spying on the man out of my head.

“No, wait!” he cried, scrabbling after me. “Please don't go. I need to talk to you.”

I stopped before slowly turning around. I tried to smile at the man but I was far too nervous, and far too distracted by the fact that he was close. Somehow he had snatched his shirt off the floor and was pulling it over his head as he drew nearer. Thank goodness as I don't think I could have coped with staring at his broad chest whilst trying to have a serious conversation with him. My chin lifted as I looked at him, almost defiant but not quite managing it.

“What did you want to talk about?” He shook his hands through his short, auburn hair as he thought about what to say.  
“I haven't had chance to talk to you before now, not by ourselves anyway. I want to talk about what happened. At Redcliffe.”  
“You were there. You saw what happened.”  
“Yes, I know. I've had some time to think about it now.” His voice, at first quite gruff from the shock of being disturbed, dropped to soft and full of gratitude. “I just wanted to say thank you. You went out of your way to save the Arl's family and you did it, even though it would have been easier not to.” It was my duty to, not only as a Grey Warden but as a decent person. My lips pressed thinner as I fought not to tell him that he had been a major factor as well. I wanted to matter to him and I knew what a dear place the Arl's family had in Alistair's mind, even the Arlessa. “There's been so much death and destruction, it … well, it makes me feel good that at least we were able to save something, not matter how small. I owed the Arl that much.”

The smile spread slowly across my face as I nodded my acceptance of his gratitude

“You're welcome.”  
“Good. Now that the warm fuzzy part of the day is over with, we can get back to the ritual dismemberments. Oh, wait, it's not Tuesday, is it?”

That prompted my body to giggle a little and I sighed contentedly, unaware of how cliched that looked yet not caring once I realised it. He smiled again as he looked down at me.

“Please let me apologise, Alistair.” I said, shaking myself out of the grinning whirlwind that my mind had stopped in. “I didn't mean to spy on you. I genuinely didn't know you were there.”  
“That's okay. Makes the day exciting if you don't know when people are going to pop up. Keeps you on your toes. I was born ready. To be fair, I was born naked and covered in goo but still, ready!”

Another smirk at his inane ramblings grew across my face.

“You do prattle on.” I teased.  
“With the best of them.” he smiled.

Suddenly I remembered the pouch that I wore on the belt at my waist. Opening the small leather purse, I pulled out the prize that I had found in the depths of Redcliffe Castle and had kept meaning to give to Alistair at an appropriate time. At the time, we shouldn’t have even been inside the study but Alistair wanted to look, more for nostalgia than anything. There looked to be a part of him that just needed to make sure everything was still okay, still in order, now that the Arl was so desperately ill. I suspected that there was a hidden depth of feeling behind the banter and the witticisms. Since then we had been travelling constantly and always busy in the evenings. I could never find a spare moment. Now seemed as good a time as any to hand over what I’d found. Well, in fact, it would be pretty much a perfect time.

“I have something for you.” I said, feeling my heart beginning to race as I stretched my hand out.

He accepted the gift with a foolish smile but confusion crossing his face. Opening his fingers to reveal the treasure there, the change of his face almost made my heart break. I longed to rush forward and comfort him as I saw the years of grief and melancholy radiate out of him. I saw his eyes close in memory and his shoulders fall as he watched something happen in his mind. I could only guess what it was. This was the man who had been pushed around by those who wished to either use him as the Theirin bloodkin he was, or to ignore him and treat him like dirt. After all our conversations, I had come to the conclusion, as had he, that both Duncan and Arl Eamon had Alistair’s best interests at heart, but I had found scant evidence that others had cared about him.

“This …” his voice cracked as he stared at it sitting in his palm, not quite able to believe it, “this is my mother’s amulet. It has to be. But why isn’t it broken?” He looked up quickly to me, eyes direct and questioning, and full of hurt and joy. “Where did you find it?” he half-demanded.  
“I found it in Redcliffe castle, in the study.” I stated simply. I was worried that maybe I had done too much, maybe this wasn’t the right time at all.  
“Oh,” he replied in confusion, “the _Arl’s_ study?”

My head nodded.

“Then he must have … found the amulet after I threw it at the wall.” Alistair replied seriously, his voice rising in pitch with excitement. “And he repaired it and kept it?” Here, his voice turned soft and full of disbelief. “I don’t understand, why would he do that?”  
“Perhaps you mean more to him than you think?”

His eyes flashed to mine.

“I … guess you could be right. We never really talked that much, and then the way I left.” I watched his eyes squeeze shut again and try and block out painful memories. “Thank you.” he finally said. He opened his eyes as he stood straighter. They were full of unimagined gratitude. They stared straight at me. Was I imagining it or was there a light that hadn’t been there before? “I mean it. I … thought I’d lost this to my own stupidity. I’ll need to talk to him about this if he recovers from his … _when_ he recovers, that is.” He stared at it again. “I wish I’d had this a long time ago.”

A slow smile spread across his face again as his amber eyes flicked up to mine. _Stomach, stop turning over when he does that!_

“Did you remember me mentioning it? Wow. I’m more used to people not really listening when I go on about things.”

Should I tell him? Should I? There seemed to be a window of a few moments where I looked at him, and he just simply stared back at me. I felt a calm sense of peace and warmth as I thought on it, and made my mind up. He needed to know.

“Of course I remembered. You’re special to me.”

There was a brief moment when he looked as if he was going to say something. He opened his mouth to say something but then the light behind them changed to a sparkle and I knew the moment had gone.

“Is this the part where the music starts and we begin dancing? Because I’m game. Where’s the minstrels?”

I pressed my lips into an amused smile and shook my head despairingly at him.

“I’ll let you get on with your swim now.” he offered, turning and opening up the path down to the lake.  
“No, it’s yours. I’ll go.” I retracted. “I’ll help with breakfast and get some water on to boil. I might see you in a minute with a big kettle.”  
“Please then, let me help you. It’s the least I can do after you’ve returned this … precious gift to me.” He stared at it with a serious smile and placed it quickly around his neck, tucking it under his shirt before lifting his face to smile at me. “And if I may …?” he started, perhaps a little nervously.  
“Yes?” I answered softly.

He looked at me. I could see his skin was beginning to pale a little and his fingers nervously played together. What was he about to say back to me?

“This may be bold,” he began quietly, his amber eyes betraying just how nervous he was, “but you’re special to me, too.”

I beamed widely at that. It was magical that he had said that to me and my insides fizzed with excitement. I meant something to him. In all this world that was harrowed by darkspawn and Blight, all the fighting that we had to go through and all the horror; that was all serious and my mind dwelt on it to a ridiculous degree. However, for now, I pushed that thought aside. I would deal with it later. As I turned to walk back to the camp, with Alistair walking besides, I could only think on one thing and it made me so unbelievably happy.

I was special to him.


	7. Maker's breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair gets to Denerim to find brothels more welcoming than sisters. He resolves to tell Mia how he feels about her.

I stared at my beer as I thought back over what had just happened. I had looked forward to seeing whether at least someone from my family would be happy to see me. All I wanted was for one of them to want to know me. How wrong I was. Goldanna had been rude and offensive, and completely resentful of me.

What a b ... No, those thoughts were unkind. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t blame her for thinking that way. Maric – I refused to think of him as my father – had slept with our mother, and as far as I knew, it wasn’t exactly something she could get out of. He was the King. Wasn’t that what Kings did? How horrible a man must he have been? Unless ... unless he cared for her, that is. Unless she cared for him too. I didn’t know what was worse. A commoner and King not allowed to be together but bound by love, or a King that had forced himself on a kitchen girl.

I shook my head as I took another sip of the tepid beer. Maker’s balls, it was foul stuff. I didn’t want to get drunk, I just wanted a place to sit and think. I had walked away from everyone else hurriedly across the market place, straight to a place I had walked past as a lad. From the few trips to Denerim with the Arl, I had scant memories but on trying to scope out where the famed Wonders of Thedas shop was, I had passed a tavern. It was that establishment in which I now found myself. I had no idea where the others were but as I walked away, blessedly no-one tried to stop me. Mia had started to despatch people to locate various supplies that we were in need of as I walked away and the beginnings of that conversation was the last I heard of it. Apparently she was letting me have the time to breathe and regain my headspace.

Something she had said had stuck though, whether or not she meant to. Everybody was out for themselves and the sooner I learned that, the better. It made me feel sad though, however rational and right a notion it was. I needed to take charge. Yes, grrrr, see me being all manly and dominant!   _I will stand up and take charge and lead my own life!_   I thought as I actually did rise from the bench I’d been sat on. Sheepishly, I glanced around once I realised what I had done and sat back down quickly, feeling a familiar redness taking over my cheeks.

Oh, what was the point? My family had deserted me long ago and this morning’s conversation had only served to prove that point. My mother had died, my father couldn’t handle me being around and had abandoned me, and now my sister had virtually disowned me as well. It looked like those who were related to me didn’t want to know. _Booooo to them!_ I thought woozily. I decided that my family would be who I made it out to be. People who meant something and allowed me to flourish. Duncan had been that person but he was gone, I realised with a rush of pain. Downing several gulps of my drink in one, I drove myself to ignore that pity.

From under my shirt, I reached in and drew out the silver chain that held my mother’s amulet. I smiled as I gazed at it, absently letting my rough fingertips trace the broken pathways that the glue had left. I had broken this once, only to have it restored to me much, much later by the most wonderful person in the world. This broken piece of jewellery would have meant nothing to anybody else, but to me it was a link to my mother. However small, I could feel connected to her as I wore it.

“If you liked, I could kill her. Your sister. For you, no price.” came the sudden voice of that treacherous Antivan bastard who had tried to assassinate both myself and Mia. Zevran sat down next to me without being invited.  
“Let me get this straight. First you wanted to kill me, then my friend, now my sister? You a singularly strange man.”  
“No, no, no. You misunderstand me. I do not _want_ to kill them but you look like you have a problem I can fix. You spared my life and I am attempting to repay you. I have a unique and well-honed set of skills for this exact situation.”  
“Zevran, for fuck’s sake, I told you to leave him alone.” came Mia’s voice as she approached the table, grabbing the elf by the upper arm and hauling him to his feet. “Wait outside and look for anyone suspicious.”  
“I should not look in a mirror then, right Alistair?” he pre-empted me with a grin, just as my mouth dropped open to say exactly that. I froze and he smirked with a wink. “Such a handsome look on you.”

She shook her head at him despairingly as he slinked away towards the exit of the tavern, staring at him with narrowed eyes until he had disappeared.

“If you can believe it, he has been aching to come in here and talk to you about his ‘unique’ solutions to your problem.” she said with an air of someone who was resolved to have to watch another like a hawk. “I tried to keep him away from you.”  
“You were the one who spared his life and he attaches himself to me. How is that fair?”  
“Life isn’t fair, you know that.” she said, sitting down next to me and giving me that direct look that made me lose concentration. I knew it wasn’t, and I knew what she was referring to. “I’m sorry that things didn’t work out the way you wanted them to, Alistair. Truly.”

A weak smile escaped my lips. Not that I didn’t want things to work out differently, I suppose it was that I knew, in my heart, this was what I expected to happen. And that’s what hurt the most. That I had known I was walking into somewhere hostile with little or no chance of success, yet I stupidly did it anyway. Mia laid her hand on mine and gave me the friendliest smile of support. And there went my brain sliding out of my ears. I looked up at her, my eyes registering a look of pure shock. ‘Aghast’ would have been a better way to put it. _Good word, ‘aghast’. I should use it more often, makes me sound like a pirate. Arrrghh..._ I pondered in my own tiny mind.

“Anyway,” she said, withdrawing her hand from mine. _Oh, why did you have to do that? I’m sorry I looked at you like I was about to eat my own hair in madness._ “We have to go and clear that whorehouse. The one Kylon asked us to help with. It’s time. Can’t say I’m eager to go but it will pay for a night in an inn for us and I need to sleep in a decent bed tonight.”  
“Okay. I’ll follow you.” I said innocently enough. She stopped and looked down at me, faint smiles playing with her lips that threatened to break loose into a full on beam.  
“Well, thank you. I’m glad to hear that. Plus, it will give you a chance to hit things whilst thinking of murderous bastards and ignorant family members.”

We shared a smile of conspiracy as I drained my drink and rose from the table. She was right. I needed to go and hit something, and hard.

 

* * *

 

I had seen it. I know I had. It was as we had been talking to Kylon earlier that day in the market square. There was a moment when she had held her breath and dipped her head. The muscles had flexed at her jaw as well. It was fleeting but it was there. She was normally so composed that it had stood out to me, quite obviously so. That was before we had gone to see Goldanna. Now, as we walked to The Pearl there was no outward sign anything was wrong. It was routine. Her shoulders were relaxed, her mouth was smiling and her manner was breezy. But I knew. I’d let her tell me in her own time.

The town around this area was less than salubrious, to say the least. The buildings were tall and well appointed but not in the best state of repair and far too close together. It seemed as if every available patch of space had a building tacked on, often organically patched together with completely inadequate materials. There was a pervasive smell of cooking stew, but instead of delicious and beefy, it was rank and greasy.

We arrived at a small square with a thin, poor looking tree in the middle. In one shady corner, a porch with a large wooden door and a lit lantern hanging above it spoke of intriguing affairs happening within as patrons brazenly walked in and out. Ostensibly it was a tavern but we knew, as did most of Denerim, it was much more. I stood for a moment and gazed up at it, wondering what sordid secrets it would hold inside. I was feeling more than a little bashful at thinking about why people normally went here.

In we walked.

The first thing that hit me was the lack of horrid smell. I had expected to be reviled at the odour of unwashed bodies and ... well ... Oh Maker, I was blushing again. It was warm but instead of sweaty, it smelled of flowers and spices. As we walked past the entrance hall into the main bar area, a woman wrapped in tight Fereldan fashions that clung to her body noticed us and walked over. I kept my eyes firmly away from her womanly shape and looked around the room instead. Unfortunately I could see a group of, let’s say, armed gentlemen of a dubious nature sat to one side of the main room. Women were draped over and around of them, trying to make their money for the night. The men were loud and rude and lairy. I shuddered at how they acted around the ladies. The rest of the room was mercifully less moronic.

“Ah, a home away from home.” announced Zevran’s distinctly relaxed voice. I glanced over to see him grin and his eyes drift closed as he inhaled with pleasure. “If you’ll excuse me ...”  
“Get back here.” Mia groaned with despair, grabbing him on his shoulder before he could move and keeping him routed to the spot.  
“If you insist, my leader.” he replied absently, not even remotely listening to her but instead trying to catch the eye of some of the ladies who were present.  
“That scamp Kylon sent you, right?" came the sultry voice of the lady who had sauntered over.  "Glad he hasn’t forgotten about us. The mercenaries are right there.” She locked eyes with Zevran, who started gesticulating as if he was perusing a fine wine or choice tailoring, before turning to me with a smile. I recoiled slightly and felt my cheeks tinge. “If you’re here about other things, just speak up.”

Why did pretty ladies have to make me blush? Just red lights shining straight out of my cheeks. No dignity or anything. I shook my head and turned to follow Mia, who had stomped straight over to the largest of the meatheads. As she drew near, he turned around with an incredulous look covering his face. Several of his friends stood up to add extra bulk and they all had extra height on her. My reflexes were itching to leap to her defence but she was the leader. I had to bow to her choices. If only they knew who faced them.

“Turn around and walk, stranger. This affair is for White Falcons only.”  
“Well, a brave bandit.” Mia stated, marvelling at his presumption that he could intimidate her. Her shoulders remained perfectly still. “Who’d have thought it?”  
“What the fuck?” the man spat.  
“By order of the guard, vacate the premises.” came the cool order. No shouting or stamping of feet. Just calm authority.

I thought it was hilarious that the reactions of the gathered bandits were bordering on explosively indignant. They were about to get their faces caved in. I could feel the tensions from this morning calling to my fighting muscles, needing to hit something. There was almost the hope that a fight would erupt, just so I could pound something into the floor, however one-sided it might be. They were armoured and probably handy in a fight, but I knew the company who walked with us. Sten growled towards the back and I could hear the sound of daggers quietly being loosened in their sheaths. From whom I didn’t know but stabbity-stab was coming, and quickly.

“Get a load of this guard. You’re telling _us_ what to do?” the leader crowed, trying to sound tough.

I knew Mia was getting close to losing the plot with this meathead by the twitches in her shoulders. However, she frightened even me when she lowered her voice to a deadly tone and spoke clearly. I could see how she stared at him, pinning him to the spot, with intense eyes constricted with restrained rage.

“Listen to me, you fucking _shaved ape_. I am a Grey Warden. My sole purpose is to slay Archdemons. Unless you hadn’t noticed, we may be in the grip of a Blight, which means I need to step up and kick the shit out of a High Dragon, which I intend to do. If I have to kill a fucking _Archdemon_ , and need to practice along the way, what kind of mincemeat do you think I will make of a street dog like you? Get, the fuck, out of the inn.”

He sputtered silently a little whilst trying to think of a retort but the blanched look on his face as he stared directly into Mia’s eyes told that he was not going to react badly.

“Er, you have a point there. Men, let’s clear out. Don’t want to get on the King’s bad side, do we?” he tried to laugh.

She kept a mean eye on them as they all walked out. Pride was bursting through every pore as I saw what she had done, and these were only petty bandits. I knew she would be able to handle anything. As the last of the Falcons trooped out, the owner sidled up to us again.

“Tell Kylon I owe him one.” she smiled knowingly. There must have been some unseen signal communicated because before we knew what was happening, there were ladies of the establishment walking towards where we stood.  
“Is life with you always this exciting, Mia?” Zevran asked eagerly as he wrapped his arms around a brunette who wasn’t exactly disgusting looking, losing himself quickly in quiet and rapt conversation.

Two hands ran over my shoulders and I jumped. Turning quickly, I saw identical twin women staring up at me, giggling and blushing. I knew they were trying elicit some kind of favour but I just stared around me, locking eyes with anyone instead of these two. In the end, Leliana was the only one who caught my eye and I mouthed ‘help!’ frantically, to which she sent me a look of panic. She was trying to fend off a man who was trying to take her hand and kiss the back of it so was distracted quickly.

“Ladies, you’re very lovely but I can’t.” I told them.  
“Why? Are you taken, soldier?” said one of the twins  
“You can take me any time.” said the other and giggled.

I blushed and jumped again when one of them felt my arms and squealed, even more so when a presumptive hand found my backside. My cheeks were turning all kinds of red and I had never felt so humiliated. Mia turned around from talking to the owner and saw what difficulties I was having. I’d never seen her face fall so quickly. She had been calm when talking to the proprietor but her face fell to a foul blackness. Rapidly she turned and glowered at them, posturing herself to look as if she was about to fight.

“Alright, missy, you can have your man.”  
“No need to mark your territory quite so obviously, love.”

Both walked away, clucking and gossiping to each other closely as they went to the bar.

“Let’s go.” Mia spat before turning and walking through the gang.

As the rest of us walked through the crowded and hot, dusty streets, she seemed to stamp her way along. Leliana caught up with her and they both walked quickly ahead, talking in lowered tones and close to each other’s heads. After a while, Mia’s movements became a lot less demonstrative and more calm. Talking with Kylon and getting paid made her evidently loosen up. By the time we were reaching the outer walls, and nearing the inn we had agreed we were going to seek rooms at, she had outwardly relaxed and was giggling. Maker bless Leliana. How she could do that, I didn’t know.

“So, my friend, I have to ask. Are you going to make a move or shall I?” came the Antivan rogue’s voice again. I jumped a little.  
“Zevran, would you stop just popping up like that?”  
“My apologies, but my question still stands.”  
“Make what move? What are you talking about?”

He looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

“If you seriously don’t know, you are a foolish man.”  
“’Tis true enough.” said Morrigan. I hadn’t even realised she was nearby enough to hear.  
“Yes, let’s all mock Alistair." I cried.  "It seems to be a party game. What has he done that’s silly and pitiful today?”  
“Not noticed something right under your nose?  In the few days I have travelled with your party, even I have noticed. Although when a beautiful woman looks at me and smiles in that way, I would not look away but move closer.”  
“Zevran...” warned Wynne from close by. “Leave the poor man alone.”

He nodded at the matriarch’s stern tone, acquiescing and dropping back slightly to talk to Sten, who then growled again. I turned to look at our leader who by now was laughing out loud with her Orlesian friend. Mistrust of my previous beliefs started in my stomach. What Zevran said rankled. Was there something more there?  I had long believed it was impossible.

Because of what, I didn’t know, but Mia happened to turn and look at me briefly. A wide and happy beam lit up her face and I felt a familiar swell of love. My own face grinned back without me doing anything. I felt like a helpless interloper as I watched how my face smiled like a lovesick dog. This was stupid. If the elf was right, and she did feel something, then why wasn’t I saying anything? I certainly did. I didn’t love her like most people loved the air or anything clichéd like that. I loved her like people loved music, or a painting, or poetry. She echoed to my soul and could stir my heart. She was vital to living, to thinking, to just being. Try and remove it and my essence would be gone. I needed her to live.

_Okay Zevran, I’ll take you up on your challenge, however unbeknownst you set it. I’ll do it. You’re right, I have to do this._

_I have to know._

 

* * *

 

_Because of course lurking outside someone's doorway in an inn is not in any way creepy. Not monsters creepy – big monsters with fangs and wings and scales – but still ... creepy._

It was a few minutes before I could work up the courage to actually knock on the damn door. It was only a simple inn, and it was only a simple wooden door, but it may as well have been the fortified ironclad front gate of Fort Drakon in the heart of Denerim, guarded by a wealth of darkspawn. I was no less nervous. I knew what I felt I had to do, and my objective was beyond this wooden barrier. I had made up my mind.  Darkspawn? Not so bad. I could take them on any day. In fact, I frequently do. Archdemon? I was resigned to facing that massive demon. Loghain? I longed for the day I could gut him. Telling a girl I liked her? Well, fuck. That’s where my bravado ran out, like a squealing little piglet. With the curly tail and everything.

_Deep breath._

My knuckles wrapped on the door before I could tell myself no. I could hear laughing from inside but that had been going on for a while. Evidently the two girls were having a good time getting ready to find food. I’m glad that Mia had someone to talk to, even though I wanted it to be me. Feet walked quickly across the floor and Leliana’s smiling face peeked out around the door.

“Alistair? How nice to see you. Can we help?”  
“I needed to talk to Mia about something.” dribbled out the words from my mouth.  
“Of course. I was just heading out but please come in.”

I was grabbed by the wrist and dragged into the room. Leliana led me with a surprising strength, another thing that put me sometimes ill-at-ease around the woman. I caught Mia’s eye and smiled, feeling a strangulated smirk twist my lips. I’m sure I looked as if I was about to vomit. The woman merely had to look at me and my brain wanted to disappear out of my ears. She had such utter control over me, I could barely concentrate with her in the same building, let alone the same room. My stomach was starting to fizz with nerves and as such, I was already checking out escape routes subtly. Mia looked over my shoulder at Leliana with a fierce intent and a blatant desire not to burst out laughing. What kind of faces was the Orlesian pulling?

As the door shut behind me, I knew I was being stupid. As I glanced again at her, I saw a wide patient smile spread over Mia’s face. At once, I felt myself calm down. My mind started to melt a little but that was to be expected. She always had the ability to calm me down and it was a more relaxed version of me that stood in front of her. My heart was still hammering in my chest, don’t get me wrong, but it was now tapping out a softer tune rather than the perky dance number it had been doing.

“Hey.” she said brightly. “What can I do for you?”

_No point in hiding now, Alistair. Just get straight to it before you muck this up._

“Here, look at this.” I said, presenting what I had been hiding behind my back. “Do you know what this is?”

She took it from my hands and looked up at me, her eyes silently asking me if I had made a mistake in asking that question. There was no malice but a puzzled look.

“That’s a rose.” she told me kindly. _I know it’s a rose. Take pity on me. I’m not good at this._  
“I picked it in Lothering. I remember thinking ‘how could something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair and ugliness?’ I probably should have left it alone, but I couldn’t. The darkspawn would come and their taint would just destroy it. So I’ve had it ever since.”

Mia was now looking at me with wide eyes. Her cheeks were also a little flushed. Did I see panic there, and was the breathing slightly elevated because of the struggle of keeping in fits of giggles? Or was it something else?

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked softly, her open and friendly posture from a moment previously dissolving slowly into sweetly defensive and vulnerable.  
“I thought I might ... give it to you, actually. In a lot of ways, I think the same thing when I look at you.”

Her lips pursed and she exhaled slowly. Her cheeks were definitely blushing. If she could do anything to make herself look more adorable then she had just managed it. Her deep blue eyes, eyes that I could open my soul to, looked up at me and I didn’t see anything even remotely deceptive there. Just openness. Was this my chance? Certainly seemed that way, I realised with explosive optimism. My skin seemed want to run away with me, such was my eagerness. _Slow down. You probably look like you want to burst. You’ll scare her._

“Thank you, Alistair. That’s a lovely thought.” she beamed.  
“I’m glad you like it. I was just thinking ... here I am doing all this complaining, and you haven’t exactly been having a good time of it yourself. You've had none of the good experience of being a Grey Warden since your Joining, not a word of thanks or congratulations. It's all been death and fighting and tragedy.” _Wow, Alistair. Way with the ladies, talking about death and destruction? Smooth! Say something else, quick!_   “I thought maybe I could say something. Tell you what a rare and wonderful thing you are to find amidst all this... darkness.” _Aaand relax. That was much better._

The strange thing was that this was what I wanted to say. As soon as the words were out, there was nothing I felt ashamed over. She was rare, and wonderful, and completely precious to me. I knew this was right, knew this was what I was supposed to be doing. If she didn’t feel this way then I’d have to deal. However, as I was looking at her smiling sweetly up at me, I flattered myself that she did feel the way I’d always hoped she did, always wondered if the way she looked at me meant anything more. There were times when I thought my heart would stop, such was the way she would smile at me, but now, with her in front of me, I was moving rapidly towards sure of it.

“I feel the same way about you.” came the honest reply.

I’d never heard her nervous before, but there it was, loud and clear in her voice. She was nervous. It just made me want to hug her and make everything okay. Catching her face with the palm of my hand, I felt suddenly so unprepared. This was what I wanted to do, so unbelievably badly, then why was my heart thumping so much? I had to know, and I had to know now.

“So, all this time we’ve spent together ... you know; the tragedy, the brushes with death, the constant battles with the whole Blight looming over us ... will you miss it once it’s over?” I asked quietly.  
“Miss the constant battle? Or miss you?” she said gently. I was at the mercy of this woman who could so deftly see straight through me. I laughed slightly as I cradled her face. That beautiful, wonderful face that was inches from mine.  
“I know it ... might sound strange, considering we haven’t known each other for very long, but I’ve come to ... care for you. A great deal.” Another wide, blissful smile. “I think it’s because we’ve gone through so much together, I don’t know. Maybe I’m imagining it. Or maybe I’m fooling myself.” _Please Mia, you have my soul. Don’t let me be imagining this._   “Am I? Fooling myself? Or do you think you might ever ... feel the same about me?”

My blood raced as I waited away the eternal seconds that stretched before me. This was torture. Wildly excited, I was pretty sure but I had to know for definite. I had to hear her say the words.

“I think I already do.” Mia replied softly, her blue eyes large and full of love.

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, happiness lit up everywhere, even my very skin it felt like. Without thinking, I brought my other hand up to her face and pulled it gently towards mine, kissing her. Her lips were as warm and soft as I’d dreamed they would be, and I’d dreamed about kissing her _a lot_. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. Her arms were wrapping around my neck, pulling me further into her. Gingerly, I wrapped my arms around her waist and held her close against me. She didn’t pull away, in fact she pulled her body in closer. Oh Maker, I realised, she was wanting this as much as I did! Wanting so much more, yet not daring to go any further, I stopped and pulled away from her mouth. I leant my forehead against hers as I didn’t want her to move even an inch. It would break the moment and this was perfection.

“That ... that wasn’t too soon, was it?” I breathed, hardly daring to speak louder lest the moment erupt and shatter. I was about to find myself awake and in my bed roll back at camp any moment. Come on brain, just get it over with.

“No, not really. I liked it.” she smiled up at me.

Wait ... what? This _wasn’t_ a dream? I really did kiss her?

“Good. I’ll take that as a good sign. Maker’s breath, but you’re beautiful. I am a lucky man.” I told her, lovingly holding her cheek. Did we have to leave this moment? Probably. That Blight might get a bit shady and threatening if we didn’t do something. Damn those darkspawn. They really do ruin everything. “Now let’s get back to ... what we were up to before. Lest I forget why we’re here.”  
“Yes, we should probably get ready to leave. Others will wonder where we are.” she said happily, and if I might flatter myself, a little dazed.  
“Yes, I should probably go. Things to do, people to see, lovely women to kiss.” I said cheekily, smiling as I went in for another one. Mia responded straight away. Her fingers moved into my hair and up around my neck. Pulling back only slightly once she’d finished, she stared into my eyes, only inches away, and I saw how happily her eyes shone. Hugging her close, she played with strands of my hair as I held her. I wasn’t about to tell her but that was driving me crazy with lust. I could also feel her alarmingly hot body pressed up against mine. Maker, I needed to be strong. I did not want to ruin this.  
“So you were supposedly going?” she grinned.  
“Yes, I had those lovely women to kiss, you see.” I smirked back. “They’re all lining up in the hallway ready to smooch me. I’m quite the ladies’ man, you know.”  
“Oh, are you?” she smiled. “I’ll have to see about that. Fend them off with sticks, I will. Now go, so I can finish getting ready.”

She put her hand on my chest and pushed me back towards the door. I tried to open it behind me and managed successfully, I realised with a grin. Stumbling backwards out into the empty corridor, she looked up at me with one of the happiest smiles I’d ever seen light up her eyes. I turned and walked away, elated and serene, with a grin the size of a dragon’s jaw screwing up my face. I’d wait for her downstairs, on tenterhooks until I saw her again.

I felt like the luckiest man in all Thedas.


	8. A bird in full flight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mia and Alistair have the first proper talk of their fledgling romance. Alistair nervously reveals things about himself that he's never told anyone.

First of all, I needed to remember to fucking breathe properly, otherwise I was going to pass out. My heartrate was sky high, much higher than after a battle, and my breathing was much faster than normal. I pursed my lips slightly and exhaled slowly, leaning forward cautiously to place my shaking hands against the door. I leant my head against the panel to listen and to steady myself. My senses had never been so heightened as I listened for those footfalls to disappear. They quietened significantly before I heard them tread the loud wooden steps that lead downstairs.

_Okay Mia, he’s downstairs. Permission to go mad, granted._

The bubble of excitement that I had held onto with an iron fist, that had made me shake ever so slightly such was the grip I had kept on it, now overflowed and I found myself bounding around the room, laughing and jumping with utter glee. My body shook with happiness and I could not have kept still had I a lock and a key.

Alistair had kissed me!

I couldn’t believe it. I thought about it some more but every time I thought about how he had tenderly held my face as he pulled me in, or how gentle and loving his mouth was, or how he had told me that he cared for me _a great deal_ , my face almost broke in two as my mouth smiled as widely as I’d ever known it to. I tried to sit down but my body was in a permanent state of motion. I couldn’t seem to manage to calm it down. I had wanted this for so long, and had dreamed about it for so many nights, that to have it finally happen was miraculous.

With a smile, I realised that I was still holding the rose that he had given me. Coming to a stop, I stared at it for what felt like an age, running my fingers over the silken petals. Something inside my mind rattled around what felt like a puzzle until I realised what was getting at me. He told me he had picked it in Lothering and I trusted him.  Why would he lie? That was over a month and a half ago, nearly two. This rose should have been rotten by now. As I packed my treasure away with the utmost care, as delicately as I could with trembling fingers, I knew exactly who I had to talk to, but that would have to wait.

“You are as happy as bird in full flight, my dear friend.” Leliana’s voice announced. I turned round quickly to see her standing by the door, used as I was to have her appear without warning. She knew, of course, what had happened in here. “It is most wonderful to see.”

I bounded over to her quickly and felt her arms wrap around my shoulders with friendly warmth. I had only recently confided to her about how I felt towards Alistair. She had been the person I needed as those thoughts had me running around in circles. My primary focus had always been the Blight and how we could stop it, and I had started to feel as if my feelings towards him were clouding my judgement. In her calming style, she had helped me see that they weren’t mutually exclusive ideals. A desire to rid the world of such wickedness went hand-in-hand with love. She reasoned that the Blight represented the hatred of the world and all its evils, and what better weapon to fight against it than the most honourable of emotions?

“Mia, you are shaking!” she laughed as she released me.  
“Only with joy, my friend.”  
“Sit down and let me help you get ready. You have much to tell me. I want all the details. Now, start with what he said when I left …”

For the next few minutes as we gossiped, she helped me to calm down and by the time I was ready to walk downstairs and see who else in the group would be joining us to find some food, I was much less skittish. I rather suspected Morrigan would not be joining us, and Sten had muttered something that he had business to attend to. When both Leliana and I arrived in the main room, Wynne, Zevran, and Alistair were talking amongst themselves. I knew Dog would be in the kennels that the inn owned and that he would be well looked after. Alistair had been standing with his back to me, conversing with Wynne about something whilst Zevran had been sitting nearby talking to a very fine looking woodsman that seemed as enraptured with the elf as my fellow traveller seemed with him.

From the short time I had known him, Zevran had made quite the impression on me. He was so open and honest about what he had been paid to do that it made me trust him, in a bizarre way. There was no deception. What made him even more entertaining was that he was so magnetic. I was resolved to keep a wary eye on him and had told him so on several occasion. Yet still he had tried to beguile me with his wit and charm, pulling me in with compliments and praise. I had told him to keep his distance and he had, for a time, before beginning a fresh assault. However, I had the distinct impression though that there was honour underneath that rampant sexuality. If I declared myself taken, I believe he would respect that, maybe for a time anyway.

I only had a few seconds to drink in Alistair before he turned to see me. His broad back was covered by a leather jacket that was lined with fur, practical and fashionless, but it seemed to fit him well. Those eyes held a spark that was new even to me as I locked eyes with him. It was useless even trying to keep in the smile that threatened to overwhelm my face but I attempted. In fact I managed to keep a lock on my mouth but I knew my eyes were wide with joy. His were similar. How much difference a few stolen moments made. Before I would have been able to control myself but now? Fuck it, I didn’t care but he might. He nodded slightly as I joined the group with a mute ‘hello’.

We ended up dining within the inn itself. It was a very simple dish of roast lamb and vegetables. However with the meal, Zevran had produced a bottle of Rivaini rum that had been very gratefully received. Conversation and laughter had flowed, especially with tales from the elf. He had enthralled us with a particularly daring problem that had ended up with him, a halla, a pirate fleet and a bag of apples. Tears of laughter had been streaming down my face and I knew it would tickle me for days. I had not sat next to Alistair on purpose as I don’t know how I would have coped. We didn’t stare, neither did we ignore each other; we were simply the friends we always had been. Except that when we did speak to each other, he wore a smile on his face that echoed my own.

The end of the evening saw others draw off towards their beds and, rather predictably, I did not want to leave, and neither did the very handsome ex-Templar. Leliana was the last to say her goodnights and I knew she had been waiting until Wynne had disappeared, just to make sure we were not party to any of the mage’s disapproving looks and comments. Zevran had departed from us much earlier in the evening to go and talk privately to the man he had been appraising earlier. He had very definitely told us that we would not see him again till morning but that he would still meet us bright and early.

“So,” Alistair said, moving to sit next to me once my roommate had left with a knowing look, “how are you today, Mia?”  
“I’m very well thank you, Alistair.”  
“Anything new to report?” he asked directly, flirting delightfully with me.  
“Not really.” I grinned.

We sat on a bench with our backs to the walls, watching the room silently for a few moments. I took hold of my drink and sat sipping it happily and he did the same. There was no strain upon us to talk. We just … were in each other’s company. As it happened, there was no space between us, my arms resting right against his arms. When I turned to look at him, his shoulder just happened to be there, and it looked like a really cosy place to rest my head for a moment. With my mouth going dry, I turned forward again to think. It was only resting up against him, not marriage. It would be okay, right? Slowly I lent my head sideways to find a waiting, warm Theirin shoulder. I didn’t relax for the first few moments, nervous that he would shrug it off as annoying, but when he gently kissed the top of my head, my muscles unwound to fully rest upon him.

“What do you want to do with the others?” he asked, taking a sip of his rum.  
“The others?”  
“The others will be around, and seeing us.  Now you’ve allowed me to kiss you,” came the whisper, “I will want to do it all the time.  I will not be able to help myself.  But only if that’s alright with you, of course!” he rushed. 

I lifted my head to see he was looking at me. With a happy grin, I looked at his mouth and casually leant forward to kiss him. It was only a few seconds but I could still taste the lingering rum on his lips. In the middle of a crowded bar, I had just kissed him. I guess that announced it to the world, if not our little group.

“I would like that very much.” I responded honestly.  
“Well, who am I to argue?” he smirked with an impish twinkle in his eye.  
“Do not worry about the group. Leliana knows, and I know Morrigan will have her suspicions.”  
“That woman worries me.” Alistair muttered, taking another sip of his rum.  
“Her purpose will show itself. She is an apt fighter and her mage powers? She is more powerful than we will ever know. Even Wynne is wary of her.”  
“That's what worries me. She just stares at me all the time. It makes me feel naked.”  
“Naked, you say?” I smiled, feeling the effects of the alcohol take my reserve and play with it.  Alistair cottoned on to my promptings.  
“Dear lady, many a woman has fainted when they saw my manly calves. I just have to flex my lower leg muscles and empires fall.”  
“Yes, dear.” I teased, patting him condescendingly on the upper arm.  
“Anyway, answer my question …” he prompted good-naturedly.  
“About the group?” He nodded.  
“I’m not going to straddle you whilst we all sit around the campfire, if that’s what you’re worried about.”  
“Spoil my fun, why don’t you?” Alistair pouted.  
“I will treat you the same as I ever have done, or tried to; with respect to your skills and admiration of your courage.”  
“And if I want to kiss you?”  
“That would be wonderful.”  
“Will you care if they gossip?”  
“Not one jot.”

That seemed to invigorate him and he sat there smiling daftly.  I drained the rest of my drink with one gulp and placed the glass back on the table. I should have been drunk by now, but I wasn’t. Just merry, and it was spiking my curiosity.  Devilment played naughtily with my boundaries as the rum blurred the lines.

“I have a question though.” I purred.  
“Go ahead.”  
“If you were raised in the Chantry, have you never … ?”  
“Never? Never what?” he teased as he sipped his rum again, looking down at me with a raised eyebrow. “Never had a good pair of shoes?”

I narrowed my eyes with good humour and smiled up at him.

“You know what I mean.”  
“I’m not sure I do. Have I never seen a basilisk? Ate jellied ham? Well, if only we could come up with some kind of metaphor for what you’re asking.” he responded with a smirk and a wink.  
“Would you stop teasing me?” came my frustrated laugh as he sniggered into his glass.  
“Me tease you? Perish the thought, dear lady.”  
“Well, has there … been anyone?” I lowered my voice and enquired, feeling a sudden surge of jealousy that he was being coy. Did this mean he was trying to hide the identities of former flames?  
“Scores, buckets, armies of them! I’ve broken hearts from Rivain to the Arbor Wilds.” he boldly stated with a laugh.

I suddenly realised that his reticence to talk about it and his desperate diversion tactics could maybe mean something else. Discretely, I leant nearer to him and dropped my voice to a whisper. Could it be that this man, this gorgeous soldier with a body and a heart only found in bards’ tales, was still honourable?

“Alistair, have you ever been with a woman?”  
“Oh, so that’s what we’re talking about!” he teased further, a sudden shakiness to his voice telling me I had hit the mark. “I admit I’ve never had a woman just … come out and ask me like this, that’s for sure.” He sat back and folded his arms in front of him. A look of uncertainty caused his forehead to crease and his lips to flatten as he worked out how to say something. “I, myself, have never had the pleasure. Not that I haven’t thought about it, of course, but … you know.”

He turned to catch my eyes with a look of such vulnerability that I knew he was telling me something he had never revealed to anyone. I smiled at such an honour.

“Living in the Chantry is not exactly a life for rambunctious boys. They taught me to be a gentleman, especially in the presence of beautiful women such as yourself.” he said quietly, taking my hand carefully and interlacing his fingers with mine, before lifting it to kiss them. My heart was thudding in my chest. “That’s not so bad, is it?”  
I shook my head slightly, hardly daring to move. “Not really, no.”  
“Good.” he sighed with relief, before turning to me with a fresh look of confusion, just in case he’d misinterpreted something. “You’d want a gentleman to court you, wouldn’t you? If … if you were to be courted by someone, that is.” he finished nervously, waiting for me to answer.

It was difficult to reconcile the image of the sweet and sensitive gentleman who anxiously sat in front of me wanting to court me, with the deadly and unrelenting killer that stalked the battlefield, slaying darkspawn with ease. I tried to catch his eyes as he sat in discomfort, staring through the table. Eventually his eyes flicked back to mine.

“I think I’d like that.” I told him, eager to allay his fears.  
“That’s good to know.” he said, relief pouring through him. “I’ll have to remember that. Have you … ever … ?”  
“Once, a long time ago. The dark and sticky fumblings of two bored adolescents. He was the son of an Arl come to visit my father. He had arrived to learn the business of running an Arling but had grown bored of the proceedings. I was of an age that I was beginning to learn about the wiles of being a woman. It was a melting pot of emotions and frustrations. Believe me, it was long ago pushed to the back of my mind.”  
“Mia?” he asked quietly, staring at me quite intently and somewhat distressed.  
“Yes?”  
“You mentioned your father.” he breathed.  
“Yes, I did, didn’t I?”

I reached forward and poured myself another drink before resuming my cosy position at his side.  I hadn't even stopped to think about what had happened earlier that day when I had spoken to Kylon.  This was going to be a conversation for another time.  There was way too much emotion running around my system to do justice to the assault my mind had gone under earlier today.  Maybe the drink was inhibiting the waves of agony I knew were nearly breaching my defenses.  Maybe my mind was only letting me have the facts, rather than the pain and the emotions.  'Just' the memories, I thought with a grim internal laugh.

“You remember, don’t you? What happened at the castle?” he asked, hardly daring to believe it.

I took a deep breath and an even deeper gulp of my drink. Exhaling slowly to steady my nerves, I turned to him and spoke plainly.

“Yes.”


	9. Kissing, touching, holding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter this time, in which Mia and Alistair realise they are more alike than they thought, before almost succumbing to their baser instincts ...

It took two weeks for her to open up about remembering what had happened in Castle Cousland. I never once pushed her to say anything she didn't want to, and in fact, it was she that breached the subject in the end. We had taken up a job guarding a convoy of merchant wagons bound for Redcliffe and had travelled alongside them on the road. It earned us good money and we had fought often, despatching bandits and darkspawn with great efficiency and clamour. We weren't the only mercenaries that they had employed as it was a big caravan, but we were the most effective. We camped together, near the merchants but never with them. After almost two weeks, we had said goodbye to them in the village and carried on going. Every night we stopped, I waited for her to talk to me but at the end of the evening, she would kiss me goodnight, roll over and pull her blanket up over her.

We were fast becoming very comfortable in each other's company, physically so. At night, by the campfire, we all would sit around on logs, or the floor and talk, or listen to stories or songs. Mia always chose to sit next to either myself or Leliana. When she sat next to me, it was usually with the most comfortable smiles and hugging of my arms, often leaning her head on my shoulder in the most intimate way. The group had just accepted us being together. We saw too much fighting to think it mattered. Occasionally, someone would say a quick bit of banter or not, but on the whole it quickly became as natural to them as it was to us. I shared Mia's worry about being distracting but I needn't have. She remained as focused on getting the job done as possible.

We had built camp on this one particular night in a dip among the foothills of the Frostback mountains. It was enough off the beaten track to be hidden well. Bodahn and Sandal had chosen to remain in Redcliffe to restock on supplies and do some proper trading, whilst we trekked up to Haven to possibly find Brother Genitivi. I hated the fact that we had another point on our journey to helping Arl Eamon, and that we had wasted almost a month travelling to Denerim and back again, only to pass Redcliffe and keep on going. I gritted my teeth as always as we couldn't have predicted what had happened in Denerim.

Tonight, Wynne, Zevran and Sten had decided to travel to a nearby hamlet to try to find supplies. Dog sat snoozing by the steady fire we had built up, and Leliana and Morrigan were off scouting the nearby countryside. Mia assured me that Leliana was under strict instructions to take the long route that encircled the camp, always ranging far enough away as to leave us alone.

I lay back on the ground, my arm curling round Mia as she lay snuggled into the crook of my arm. The light from the fire was far enough away that it didn't interfere with the stars and as I lay there, I took to studying the constellations that I could see. I tried to explain them to Mia but I knew I was making half of them up. Occasionally she would look up but often correct me good naturedly, before laying back down and listening to me witter on.

“Alistair?” she said after a while.  
“Hmmm?” I replied absently as my fingers gently trailed up and down her arm.  
“I'd like to talk to you about something.”  
“Of course, my darling.”  
“It's serious.” I grew curious but not concerned as it wasn't the first time she'd said that.  
“I'm always here to listen to you, you know that.”  
“Do you believe in revenge?” she asked, so softly that I almost didn't hear the words.  
“No.”  
“No?” she asked, propping herself up on her elbows and looking at me as if she hadn't expected me to say that. She wore a look of genuine confusion. “Not even Loghain?”  
“I don't believe in revenge, I believe in justice. I will not kill him because I want to, but because he deserves to pay for his crimes.” Mia settled back down then but lay on her back to stare at the night sky. Her head was not on my arm any more, and she lay on the ground, her face rather more level with my own. “Why?”  
“I think about my parents more and more.”

That was when my pulse raised a little. Was this it? Was she about to open up to me?

“What about them?”  
“They would not want me to be eaten up with malice but I cannot help myself.”  
“Do you feel the person responsible needs to answer for a crime that was not an accident?”  
“Yes. They really, really do.” a low voice full of bile spoke, as I felt her body shake a little with anger.  
“Mia? I am here for you. If you want to talk … ”

She remained silent for a few minutes. There was deep breathing but no subtle sniffing, no hands wiping away tears. I had expected her to be emotional about this but there was a coldness there in the way she stayed quiet. It made me all the more worried.

“I was asleep when I was awoken by screams. I could smell burning but more intensely than from the fireplace. I knew something was wrong so I quickly donned what armour I could and grabbed my weapons. Men burst in to the room but they were swiftly dealt with. I had no time to feel anything about my rooms being invaded, I just reacted. Fleeing into the corridor, I was met with more men intent on doing me damage but in my anger, I killed them before they made it very far. My brother's rooms were across the hall ...” Here she raised a shaking hand to her lips, staring at untold horrors before her memory. I patiently waited, appalled at what I had heard so far. “I can never unsee what was in that room.”

A slow breath escaped her mouth as she sought for a few moments to regain composure.

“I fought my way to where my mother waited, desperately looking for my father who was missing. She had the key to the castle armoury so we retrieved a thing or two before heading to the main hall. We learned that my father had last been seen heading towards the kitchen. Alistair, the building was on fire wherever we looked. All around, I could hear the screams of the dying, of those I had grown up with, of those I loved. All we could do was to make our way past them. My mother sped me on.”  
“You did the right thing. If these men were intent on killing you, your mother acted correctly.”  
“Maybe.” Mia answered in a quiet voice. “We found my father in the kitchens as Ser Gilmore had told us. He was dying.”  
“My darling!” I said, wanting to reach out and hug her but she remained laying on the floor staring at the stars.  I held her hand, interlacing her fingers with mine and squeezing them gently to let her know I was there. Her voice was matched and even, and she was implacable in how emotionless she was being. It was as if she was debriefing the group after a fight about some new tactic the enemy was using.  
“I cannot dwell on this but you should know what happened. You have the right to.”  
“I only have the right if you want to tell me. I am honoured you are telling me this much.”  
“How many nights have you lain awake, seeing Duncan broken and bloodied before you?” I bit my lip. She knew the question would hurt me but there was no malice there. I tightened my mouth and clenched my jaw but remained quiet. “I have only had the pleasure of that for the past few weeks, only had that time to get used to it. My father lay on the floor of the kitchen, a pool of his own blood spreading out underneath him. We could do nothing to save him. My mother and I tried but the wounds were too deep. By the time we found him, there was nothing we could do. Duncan appeared from the madness and offered to take me away, if he could get me out. Father gave his consent for my joining the Wardens but Duncan would have conscripted me if not. Mother and Father told us of an escape route through the pantries. We said our goodbyes and I left. I have been running ever since.”

The silence of the campsite was palpable. So tangible I could almost feel the agony she sent forth. It wasn't from her voice, nor her body language, but rather the absence of outward emotion. Maybe we shared a connection as Grey Wardens, but I could tell what she was going through, or could empathise a little. Images of Duncan made me feel queasy and I sat up to try and make sense of what she was telling me. It was a very clinical retelling of the story and I knew there was more to it than that.

I turned to face her as she sat up as well.

“I am so sorry you had to do that, but ...” I said, pausing a moment.  
“Yes?”  
“If you hadn't have left, you would have been killed.”

She smiled forlornly and hugged her knees.

“I know that. Should I have stayed though? Should I have insisted that I defended my mother and father?”  
“They did what was best for you. What any good parent would do for their children! They sent you away!”  
“Like Duncan sent you away to the Tower of Ishal?”

My eyes dropped to the floor as I sighed, knowing she was right. Mia knew how much I wished I could have stayed to defend Duncan. Maybe I could have kept him safe but the honest truth was – and I hated myself for saying this – that I would have died if I had stayed at Ostagar. Climbing the tower and lighting the beacon had saved my life. _Duncan_ had saved my life. Both Mia and myself had wanted to stay and defend those we loved, knowing we could have made an impact but ultimately succumbing to the same fate that ripped those people from us. No, like Mia, it was best that we left when we had done, horrific as that was.

“The men who fought against you in the castle, do you remember anything about them? Any colours, crests? Anything?”

She held my eye and tipped her head ever so slightly. There was a smile there but on the edge of it was a warning, one that told that the conversation was over. Of course she knew but she didn't want to talk about it any more. I would honour that.

“You know, when I asked Leliana to make sure she and Morrigan stayed away from the camp, I had quite another evening in mind.” she purred delightfully, turning to maneouvre herself on to me. Where I sat, she swung her legs over mine so she was sat astride my thighs, her body inches from mine. Okay, the conversation before was hard and serious and awful but she knew exactly how to take my mind off it. Desperately I tried to concentrate, to try and be a gentleman but as she inched slowly forward, holding my eye all the time, my brain felt like it was about to explode. She wasn't wearing armour now, having ditched it when she arrived at camp. Instead she was wearing the underdress she always wore. It was thin cotton and was clinging to her body in ways that made me blush. Her arms wrapped around my neck and as such, her body was pressed against mine. Her breasts, oh Maker, were firm against my chest. My pulse started to shoot for the stars.

“I don't want to talk about my home any more. Is that okay with you?” she drawled, placing a kiss on my lips. I nodded dumbly and welcomed her hot mouth.

As she wrapped her arms around me, she pulled me closer to her, if possible. Eventually my arms were willed out of the stunned silence that the proximity of her phenomenally gorgeous body had put mine into. The kiss went on for what seemed like hours. I couldn't hold her close enough and I started feeling desires and lusts threading through my body. Gingerly I lifted my hands and placed them on her back, pressing her nearer to me. She responded most eagerly and the passion between us soared.

She broke off, looking me deep in the eye as she took in deep breaths. I held her tightly as I wasn't able to let her away. My body was responding in an animalistic way. This paragon of beauty was astride me, kissing me, touching me and holding me close. What was I supposed to do? The kisses heated up, if that was possible and I raced to keep up with her desires. She grabbed my face and crushed her lips to mine, spreading her fingers into my hair and keeping my head very keenly near her. Gasps and panting were the only thing that could be heard beside the fire that crackled nearby.  Slowly she pushed me backwards to the floor.  I tried not to let her but the way she looked into my eyes with such electric passion, I relented almost before I tried to resist.  She lay on top of me as I ran my hands over her back, crossing over her shoulders and not allowing her to get away.  They travelled down her back and I heard her moan.  My hands found her the curve and bare skin of her arse.  That fabulous backside that I had watched so many times, my hands ran over the swell of it now.  Oh Maker, I was losing focus.  My groin was starting to ache. This was not good. Breaking off suddenly, I clutched her by the upper arms, sitting up quickly and moving her out of the way. 

“I can't.” I spat, hating myself for it but at the same knowing I couldn't go on.  
“I know.” she responded, swallowing against the desire still evident in her voice. “I shouldn't have pushed you." she rushed, almost begging for forgiveness.  "But Maker's holy arse, Alistair. A boy from the Chantry does not learn to kiss like that out of nowhere. Who did you practice on?” she laughed happily, her chest heaving with deep breaths.

I smiled as I tried to calm myself down. _Hurlocks, always think of the hurlocks._ I lay back down on the floor and she laid down with me, snuggling back into the hollow of my chest.  Slowly, I managed to catch my breath and bring my vision back into focus.

“You can stay, my darling. You know that right?” she teased after a while.  
“As long as you stay with me.” I smiled back, kissing the top of her head.


	10. I would not break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A very short scene, but one of ultimate poignancy for Mia. She is reminded of her purpose in life by the man she thought would never leave her.

_“My dearest child...”_

It could not have been, it just could not have been him. Please Maker, no. Not Father. Anybody but him. All feeling fell out of my body through my feet, followed by a shivering, feverish shaking that I couldn't stop. No words could describe how empty I felt as I stared at him. Untold agony waited just around the corner for me but for now, there was nothing. Why? Why was I so heartless? I would always be his littlest girl, always be that child that ran to him for hugs, always be that five-year-old that wanted one more book at bedtime. Did that mean nothing?

My mouth had run dry and I tried to swallow.

“Father?” I asked meekly, not quite believing how this vision was there.

As the emotions finally broke forth, crushing love threatened to overwhelm me, yet unimaginable guilt rode violently through my memories, colouring them red and scarlet. His spirit would not be stood in front of me had I not ran away with Duncan. If I had stayed to fight, if I had done something, I could have kept them alive. I met those eyes that I knew so well and felt my own fill with tears. With a clenched fist, I kept them in. A wistful smile on his mouth broke the space between us and kept me tied to him. There was no room, no other people, nothing; just myself and my father. The man I would love as long as I lived.

“You know that I am gone, and all your prayers and wishes will not bring me back. No more must you grieve, my girl. Take the pain and the guilt, acknowledge it and let go. It is time.”

How could he have known if he wasn't real? How could he have known that at that moment my heart was breaking? I could not let go, even as he told me to. I could never let go of him.

“You have such a long road ahead of you, and you must be prepared.” he said forlornly as his own face creased with longing to return and hold me. “And so I leave this in your hands. I know you will do great things with it.”

He reached out and dropped something into my waiting palms. I felt something materialise but could not tear my eyes away from the being that was the essence of my father. Slowly, the edges of him started to shimmer. There was suddenly so many questions I wanted to ask him, so many things I wanted to know, yet none would emerge from my mouth, no matter how desperately I tried. Love, fear, longing, grief, happiness; these all coalesced and swirled violently in me as I fought to hang on to my father's presence. As he disappeared, the last thing I saw of him was his mouth. He blew me one last kiss, and was gone.

Had I imagined it? Had I dreamt it? Had it indeed been real?

I opened my fingers to look at what he had left there. A small, silver amulet. Whatever it was that had been there could not have been my father. Maker be blessed but he had granted me one final vision, one last dream of the man I had left behind to die. Whether or not it had really be him I would never know. The madness and desperation of my soul parted like the sudden breaking of rain as I realised what I had to do. I had to bring justice upon those who were responsible.

I would not cry. I would not break. Not until I had avenged them. This would be no-one else's quest but mine. Not even my travelling companions. My fingers fumbled with the chain but I ripped my gloves from my hands and tried again. I put it around my neck at once, tucking it under my armour. The weight of it felt inverse to its size; the load it bore on me now was greater than anything I had ever carried before.

I had survived. The being who had just visited me had told me that I had to let go of that guilt. Closing my eyes and lifting my chin, I saw myself standing in a meadow as a soft breeze blew through it. I opened my fingers to see white feathers float away on the wind silently. With the release of this burden, the lock that the guilt had so firmly taken of my mind disappeared. I had survived, I repeated to myself as I opened my eyes to the spot where before my father had stood. A smile crept onto my face. A dark smile, one of intent and resolve, bent my lips as I vowed to complete my task.

I had survived, for a purpose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next one will be longer, I promise!


	11. The True King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair ponders the enormous weight of responsibility of what Eamon proposes. He recieves help in his decision from the most unlikely of sources.

People didn't know what they asked of me. This was too much, far too much. I couldn't become this man that people wanted me to be. I was just … me, not some King who would rule and make decisions and go to war. They didn't want me. They needed someone else, like Eamon himself.

I leaned against the soft stone walls of the battlements and stared out across Lake Calenhad, sighing softly through my nose. My mind had been wandering around the problem ever since Eamon had spoken of his plans. Eamon would be better as a ruler, it was true, but he was right. He would seem as opportunitistic as Loghain himself, and resentment would grow against him.  Something on which Loghain would capitalise, no doubt. For the umpteenth time in my life, I cursed the day that Maric had met my mother. My bloodline seemed fit to trap me, no matter where I turned. I was always Alistair Theirin, the bastard Prince. What was so wrong about just plain old Alistair? If Eamon had his way, the blood that flowed in my veins – royal Theirin blood – would see a crown upon my head, should I want it or no.

The vast body of water lay before me, stretching away into the distance. This was a view I had grown up with. I loved it for its simplicity; the water was always there, softly lapping on the shores, harbouring fish to feed the people of Redcliffe with. It was as unchangeable as my fate. As I looked out across Ferelden, across the land that I adored and fought for, I wondered with a simmering sense of dread – could I rule it? My gut responded with a loud cry against, along with my heart. I did not want this at all. However, my head, so often overlooked by others and myself, agreed with Eamon. If I did not stake a claim, then Loghain would win and place his daughter on the throne instead. No matter how much I did not want or feel ready for the throne, my utter hatred of him broke through the dizzying spells of self-doubt. I was awful for the Kingdom, but Loghain was worse. I laughed softly as feelings of pity for Ferelden's people flooded my mind. A lying bastard, or an insecure one?

A small stone bench nearby called to me and I sat down on it, heavy with the matters of the day. A headache was making all the thinking even worse, and I was not known for my thinking anyway. The afternoon sun shone warmly on my neck as I leaned forward, my elbows propped up on my knees, pinching the bridge of my nose before massaging my temples. My eyes drifted closed as the cycle of indecision started again.

I heard the door to the nearby tower creak open and then swing shut. Who had come to talk sense into me? Eamon? Teagan? Mia? It may even have been a guard just on patrol. However, there was no rattle of armour, no footsteps that passed by where I was. Whoever it was just waited. My eyes stayed shut and feelings of resentment at who had disturbed me rose sharply.

“Whoever that is, please leave me alone.”  
“Alistair.” started a very familiar voice, one that I was not expecting at all.

My eyes flew open to see the Arlessa standing against the wooden door to the tower. She stayed very still, regarding me with the open suspicion she had always had towards me, but here she was nonetheless. She hovered near the doorway, almost as if she was still deciding whether or not she should be here at all.

“Arlessa Isolde?” I asked quickly, rising from my seat as my upbringing demanded. “What are you doing here?”

She said nothing for the first few moments yet her face changed from one of indecision and accusation to one of resolve. There was even a sudden edge of something akin to warmth in her eyes, yet I was convinced that I must have imagined it. A sudden burst of sunlight made her squint. Yes, that must have been it.

“I do not hate you, Alistair.”

A lady of surprises today, it seemed. First I did not expect to see her, and when she opened her mouth, she said something I would not have guessed. I didn't believe her of course. My face fell to the floor with a disbelieving chortle under my breath. After I had collected myself, I looked back to her and waited for her to explain herself.

“I do not hate you, but I am not saying I never did so.” What was happening here? This was the most she had ever said to me and it was effectively to say something I already knew. “I resented you when you were a boy because you represented that which I could not have stood. The purity of my husband's affections towards me. When my family was sent here to govern Redcliffe, I met Eamon and loved him from the beginning. You will never know how much I loved him, how much I still do. I think you believe I am incapable of love.”  
“My Lady ...” I started, eager to avoid a conflict, but she raised her hand instantly. I stopped and let her carry on.  
“If you had been Eamon's son, it would have meant that he loved someone before me.” came the plaintive explanation.

My heart, beaten by years of hatred from this woman, longed to rail against her. I yearned for the chance to accuse her of being a liar, and a horrid, horrid woman. However, my head was overruling those impulses and willed my soul into being quiet. Why, of all days, did my head choose to start being sensible?

“You love Connor, and I see how much you love the Arl. I know you are capable of love.”  
“I did not want to raise you as my own son, Alistair ...”  
“I know that!” my mouth spurted. Instantly I regretted the interruption and I squeezed my eyes shut with shame.  
“I did not want to replace your mother. It would have been a denigration to her memory for someone else to raise her boy. I did not want you to forget her through the happenstance of having another mother figure.”

I stared hard at the ground, trying not to feel the anguish of all those lonely nights as a small boy when I longed to feel the warm arms of someone hugging me. My mother had died long ago and Isolde had been the only woman to raise me, albeit a great and cold distance. The cook in the castle kitchens had seen more of me than she ever did. Looking up at the Arlessa's face, I saw the implacable facade of someone who had spent years denying what she had done, and justifying it to herself. I wasn't ready to believe her just yet.

“Why did you have me sent away?”  
“Because you needed to learn the ways of the world.”  
“I was ten, my Lady. How is that old enough to learn the ways of the world?”  
“It was a decision made long ago. I do not regret it as it taught you in ways we could not have, and put you on the path of the man you have become.”  
“All I wanted to was to stay and have a home.” I told her plainly. She did not reply but looked at me coolly.

A silence fell over us both as years of rejection were wordlessly acknowledged.

“Is that why you came up here? To make me feel more miserable?” I asked morosely, turning back to the views of my homeland.  
“I came to persuade you that you are the right man for this. Whatever you think of me, I think more of you than you will ever know.” I looked up at her sharply, hardly daring to believe I had heard the words trip from her mouth. I tried to coax my eyebrows down from where they had flown to. “You saved my son, Alistair. You and your friends, when you didn't have to. I was horrible to you, throughout your life, and still you did the right thing.”

Tears formed and fell down her cheeks. She brushed them away as a blush at the impropriety blossomed on her cheeks. My insides squirmed. I did not like seeing any lady cry, even her.

“Do you know what it's like to be an Orlesian in a country that was ruled by them for so long? Loghain stirs up hatred against my people, even though the occupation ended long ago.”  
“Generations were born and died under Orlesian rule, Arlessa. There are still many who remember their governance.” I warned, regarding her out of the corner of my eye.  
“You are right, but I share your hatred of Loghain. I would never speak of it out loud but I have to tell you now. His lies and deceipt will bring this noble country to its knees if he is allowed to rule. You are a good man, Alistair. You have fought for Ferelden. Please, do not let Loghain win.” She came forward as she implored me. “Please. You must stand for the Kingship. Stake your claim and deny his.”

She held my eye for a long time before finally saying something that pained her yet she said it anyway.

“You are the true King of Ferelden, Alistair.”

Unable to contain herself any longer, she turned and opened the door, leaving quickly and letting the door fall shut behind her. A deep sigh escaped my mouth as I stared out into the open, listening again to her arguments in my mind. If someone such as her could tell me, to my face, that she had faith in me, then something inside of me must be good enough.

Mustn't it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's not much longer than my previous one like I had promised, but I'm really happy with this chapter. I don't like Isolde but I can imagine her saying all these things to Alistair, and I think it must have taken guts for her to say these things to him. If you have any feedback, I'd be grateful to hear it!


	12. I've never done this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mia and the group travel up the mountain trail to find Orzammar. Sten asserts his authority over the group which is fought over to the death, Mia learns an emotional piece of information from Morrigan, and the relationship of the two Grey Wardens is finally tested. In most pleasant and delicious ways.

Was this what being a leader meant?

The long sword cleaved down to try and take me in half from the shoulder to the stomach. I jumped to the side, feeling the swift wind from the swing against my face. It clanged, juddering onto the floor, but Sten wrenched it back into the air. His eyes glared with an intense hatred. I'd never fought him in battle, never been his enemy, but in this I was. I had to fight to the death here and it was truly terrifying. Not because I thought I would lose but because I wondered if I might win and kill my friend.

With my right dagger, I jabbed upwards to knick him under his forearm. I danced and jumped in front of him, hoping to open up a wild swing downwards. He did and it was foolish. Lifting his arms up, I pounced with my left to embed the dagger well into his armpit. It was clumsy but necessary. My timing had to be precision fine, and thankfully it was. The sword crashed down, inches from my body.

Sten roared with pain. Teeth bared with fury, he turned to swing at me again. Wild and low, he wants my legs. Jumping to avoid falling again, I struck twice around his head before landing gracefully a short way back. The blades clanged against his helmet but I wanted that. His eyes rolled a little and I knew he was disorientated. I took the wild chance of charging him. The chest was my target and I coiled my legs to pounce, heaving all my strength into pushing him over. It worked and the large man thudded backwards onto the floor, his two-handed sword landing by his side. At once, my dagger's edge was against his throat with a snarl. I pushed the flat of the blade into the soft underside of his jaw, forcing him to tip his head backwards.

“You've said your piece. Now get back in line.” I growled fiercely as I stared down at him, my knee on his chest. He stared at me and I could almost see the red mist that covered his mind.  
“No, I'm taking command.”  
“Just try it.” I hissed.

I flew back as his mighty strength overcame his desire not to see his throat cut. Steadying myself, I pushed off with one foot on the offensive once more. He readied his fist and swung to punch me. If it had landed it would have been colossal indeed. I was too focused now. I ducked under and came up on his closed side where his other arm waited, protecting his ribs. The elbow of his punching hand, now unprotected and exposed, saw my daggers slice downwards. A spray of viscous, warm blood hit my face and I grimaced at the familiar metal taste. Back under the outstretched arm I danced, already on his left side before he knew he'd been hit. Left cut, then right stab. The blade sank into an exposed joining in his crude leather armour.

Eyes rolled as he dropped to his knees, unable to catch his breath. Maybe if my blade wasn't sunk into his lungs then he would be able to draw a breath. I stood behind him, pulling his forehead back roughly, my other dagger to his throat once more.

“Yield!” I roared in his ears, feeling the cold clamminess of his skin under my hands. He was starting to haemorrhage internally. I had seen it a thousand times and I knew he had minutes to live. Shaking his head with a growl borne of Qunari obstinance, I pressed my dagger further into his neck. “YIELD!”

With my knee, I knocked the dagger that protruded from his chest. A gurgle of pain, frothed with his blood, spat from his mouth and I finally felt him nod his head. I wrenched out my blade and guided him to the floor where Wynne was almost already on top of him. Alistair rolled him over with insistent urgency. As Wynne fell to her knees beside him, I already had the top off of a potion bottle and was pouring my strongest healing draught into his mouth.

She shoved me out of the way as she started to weave her magic. I stood up panting and watched, feeling the adrenaline slowly leaving my system. A fight to the death had been required; a Qunari had demanded it. However, as I looked at the broken giant of a body laying in front of me, fear started to invade that I had gone too far. No, the man was too strong for that. Surely?

Alistair looked up and caught my eye. With a look halfway between worry and accusation, I watched him turn back to the large fighter on the floor. His eyebrows knitted first with frustration, and then with relief. A growl issued from Sten's throat as he shifted his body. Sitting himself up, and then using Alistair's shoulder to push himself to standing, he regarded me with something akin to respect.

“I was wrong. You are strong enough. What now?” he asked in his low voice that always managed to sound angry.  
“That's up to you.” I replied, still panting a little from the fight and wiping blood from my face with the side of my hand.  
“Lead. I will follow.”

With a nod of my head to acknowledge what a massive show of submission the man had just made, I turned and grabbed my daggers.

“Gather yourselves.” I told the group. “We carry on up the mountain. Darkness approaches and we need to find a campsite.”

I turned away with a cloth in my hand, already cleaning my blades. The trembling had started and that was never a good sign. Leadership was taking its toll on me.

 

* * *

 

It was just before midnight as I stood shivering at the entrance to the cave, watching down the mountain road. My ribs hurt as I hugged my body tightly, almost trying to squeeze warmth back into me. The stars were clear from where I stood which only meant one thing; cold. No clouds meant the heat from the day would escape into the sky. It was my shift to watch whilst the rest of the group slept at the back of the long cave we had found. At least they had a fire. A fire at the entrance to the cave would have attracted bandits. Morrigan stood against the other wall watching up the road.

She must have noticed as I felt the air around me warm by degrees; first simply not cold, to tepid, and through to warm. Slowly my arms felt life spread back into them and I tried to uncurl them from my chest. Gingerly I unfurled them properly and when I felt how warm the air around me was, a slow, languid smile of appreciation appeared.

“Thank you.” I moaned gratefully.  
“’Tis nothing.” she muttered, refusing to look at me as she stared up the mountain path.  
“Well, I’m indebted nonetheless.” I told her as I flexed life back into my fingers. My mind saw the snow outside the cave and was convinced I was still cold, yet my skin was approaching toasty warm. It was a most odd sensation. “Say, Morrigan …”  
“Yes?” she asked in a voice that already approached boredom.  
“I need to say thank you for something else.”  
“It was nothing. He asked me, I performed a minor magick.”

Already she knew what I referred to. Morrigan was so adept at reading people, I often wondered if she could see people’s minds. She so readily pre-empted me. Was I so easy to read? It wasn’t just me though. All of us at some point had received a brusque interruption as she correctly responded to our enquiries. With a wave of the hand, she would tell us what we needed to know and no more. What kind of life had she had that would make her so unsociable? She was so dismissive of gratitude, it made me wonder how often people said thanks to her.

“It means a lot to me.” I mused, idly wondering if I could trick her into conversation.  
“I was prolonging the inevitable death.” The words absently tripped from her mouth.  
“Why?” I prompted, feeling that I had already overstayed my welcome in this conversation but I wanted to get to know the woman. We had been together for nearly three months by this point and I barely knew anything about her.  
“He piqued my curiosity and played to my pride. A most foolish notion on my part. It will not happen again.”  
“How did you do it?”  
“Enough!” she finally snapped, her palm showing a gross feeling of irritation. “It was a rose. It would have died. I stopped that happening. What more do you need to know?”

She folded her arms and I started to feel the warning eddies of magic trickling through the air, as if she wanted the air around her to crackle and for her to be seen as intimidating. I wasn’t having any of it. Morrigan was a wonder to me. How something so powerful could have stayed outside of the Chantry’s notice was beyond me.

“I thank you anyway.”

A proud stance, I noticed, as I watched her out of the corner of my eye. The staff that was always by her side looked even darker under her pale skin. There was no outside signal that she was irritated; no clenched jaw, no quivering eye, nothing. However, I knew to stay quiet now. The path down the mountain was watched again for a long, tense moment before I heard the words, spoken so quietly I almost missed them.

“You’re welcome.”

 

* * *

 

It would take several more washes to get the stink of Jarvia's underground madness out of my hair. The place had been dank, fetid and devoid of any fresh air. What amazed me most about Orzammar was the airflow. The forefathers had been great indeed. Little things like air pipes being decorated in regal scupltures, blending into the stonework of the different quarters of the great stone city. Massive air shafts had been cleverly blended into the buildings to allow fresh breathing air, even breezes every now and again. Not Jarvia's hideout. In there, nothing fresh had blown through in a while. The caves were rank with stagnant blood pools, faecal puddles and rancid water, plus the stench of unwashed bodies.

Waves of her soldiers had fallen to our blades like a hot poker in snow. They regrouped and then hit again, only to be repelled. Their tactics had made our way hard going for a while but we pushed on. The advantage was theirs as they should have known the underground much better than we did. However, they were sloppy and ill-fed, which made them weak. Jarvia presumably kept them hungry to keep them in line but it didn't work at all well. It made them crazy and sloppy but after having seen their leader, it didn't surprise me at all. She was insane. A real piece of work. But she had fallen along with her supposed fighters.

Like they all would.

It had taken us far less time to make it back to Dust Town, popping through a wall into that little ferret Janar's armourers, but as we walked tiredly through the Commons and then up to the Diamond Quarter, we could feel the eyes on us of all the dwarves we passed. Whether for good intent or no, because of gratitude or fear, they watched us trudge our way through the crowds to Harrowmont's estate. My arms dripped with the blood of the dwarves we had killed and even though they had been enemies, I still felt uncomfortably conspicuous that the blood that coated my armour were of the brothers, fathers, friends of those we passed.

“Thank you again.” Harrowmont had said. That was it.

Always one more step. As I lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, his words echoed round in my head. He would support us, and seemed grateful we had done what we had done, but Maker's arse, there was always one more fucking step. Now we had to go down into the Deep Roads to find a Paragon, no less. The Deep Roads were beyond comprehension in size. Maker knew how long it would take us to find her in the nug-warren of tunnels down there, if we could find her at all. We had clues on where to start but once we got down there, who knew what we would find. Darkspawn of course, but they were the least of our worries. A melancholic smile passed my lips. It was chilling that the Darkspawn would be the enemy we had to worry about the least.

Being under the stone terrified me. At the back of my mind there was always a soft tune playing in a dark and minor chord. Most of the time I could ignore it but it was always there. As I lay here in this small room hewn from the vast belly of a mountain, I felt infinitely vulnerable. My mortal enemies were nearer than they'd ever been. We were going to be venturing onto their ground, their blood-soaked territory, and we might not come out. The choice was certain death if we stayed out, or probably death if we went in. What gorgeous odds that gave, I realised as the fear started to play with my stomach. Would we make it? Would my friends survive? The ones I had been with every day for nearly three months and had become the only family I had left, apart from my brother. How would I cope knowing that I had lead them to their death? That thought was banished before it even began. Most of them had chosen to be here. I had rescued or pardoned most of them, and they had followed me out of some misguided loyalty, determined to help. But one, he stuck by me no matter what.

Alistair.

We had been thrown together by Duncan and the Blight. We had survived a Joining. We two were intimately connected beyond anything I could have described. Certainly anything I had ever known. Fear broke my face as I realised that I might lose him to the Calling whilst in the Deep Roads. One morning I would wake and he would be gone, off returning to the dark family that stalked the black ways below. Or I would be the one to go. Either way, parting seemed likely. Long ago, I had resigned myself to the fate that the Archdemon would more than likely part us forever. It was perhaps inevitable that we would die, perhaps not together but the chance of one of us dying was great. Separation from Alistair loomed over my future like an evil growth, intent on sucking the life out of me.

I loved him.

He was the mirror to my soul. The more time I spent with him, the more I knew I couldn't be parted from him. We spent most nights wrapped up in each other. Sometimes the group would give us the privacy to just sit by ourselves and talk, imagining we were two lovers sitting by a river with no cares in the world. At night, we would fall asleep in each other’s arms. Our relationship, though close, had been entirely chaste and innocent. We were intimate but not physically so. That bugged Zevran no end, who insisted on trying to give us advice and tips but we refused. Alistair had never given any cause for me to realise that he was going to be anything other than a gentleman. He was going to court me, like he had said. However, when he kissed me, it was all he could do to stop from going further. One evening, he had admitted as much – that he had wanted to but he couldn't let himself. I wouldn't love him half so much if he wasn't as attentive and romantic.

He had said at dinner that he needed to talk to me and asked if he could come to my rooms. We had been provided with accommodation in Harrowmont's estate and each had been given our own private room with bath. I was looking forward to a sleep by myself for once, not having to care about who else I would disturb. Servants had flitted around us but right now, they waited somewhere far away from where I lay. Wandering through the corridors, doors to guest quarters peeling off them as we walked along, it had staggered me how big it had been.

A knock at the door awoke me from my daydream. This would likely be Alistair. I rose off the bed and smoothed my dress down. It was the only dress I had but it was better than armour. Checking myself in the mirror to make sure I was presentable, I walked quickly over the door. Pausing just before I opened up the door to the man who made my heart beat, my fingertips rested on the door handle and I took a deep breath. Exhaling slowly, I stared through the wood that separated us. I was nervous, and that was new.

Opening it up, he had pushed his way into the room before the door was even half open. Even from the back, I could tell how agitated he was. The door was pushed to beside me and I watched him stalk back and forth across the carpets.

“Come in.” I laughed, gently mocking his urgent entry.  
“The Deep Roads, Mia. The fucking Deep Roads.” he muttered, gesticulating as he paced. Evidently he had been thinking the same as me. He stopped in front of the fire and crossed his arms, letting the fingers from one hand ride up and play absently with his mouth. The hold of his shoulders concerned my softer side.

I walked over and slipped my arms through his, hugging him and laying my face gently against his back. Immediately, his arms covered them and his fingers spread into mine.

“It is not inevitable, my darling.” I whispered as I squeezed him tighter to me.  
“I know.” his soft voice responded as he stared into the fire. A pregnant moment spread silently over the room as we both stood quietly holding the other. “If I lose you ...”  
“Alistair, leave this conversation for the Archdemon, not for tunnels of nugs and deep stalkers.” I chastened softly. If my heart could only feel as relaxed as I had forced my voice to be.

He spun around, taking my fingers and squeezing them earnestly. The speed of it surprised me and I found myself staring into his amber eyes. Fear stalked there but it was not fear for himself, rather me.

“Have you heard them singing?” he smiled as the inevitability of his fate creased fear into the corners of his eyes. My own closed with sadness. A hand left mine and brushed my hair back from my face, fingertips gently pushing it behind my ears. He pushed forward to kiss me and it caught me unawares. His mouth caught mine with a sudden passion. The more it went on, the more I wanted it to keep going. His lips were hot and warm against mine, stubble rasping softly against my cheek. But he broke it off and pressed me to his chest, strong arms wrapping around me in a primal show of protection.

After a few moments though, he pushed away from me and strode a few paces away, clearly still agitated.

“Alright, I guess I really don't know how to ask you this.”  
“Ask me what?”  
“Oh, how do I say this? You'd think it would be easier, but every time I'm around you, I feel as if my head's about to explode. I can't think straight!” he cried in exasperation as he turned round and through his hands up to his head. It sparked a fire that he felt that passionate about me.  
“I feel the same way.” I started forward and said, eager to calm him.  
“Well, I hope you mean the head exploding thing in a good way.” he stopped and said to me with his crooked smile. He turned back towards me again and his voice dropped to a serious tone. “Here's the thing: being near you makes me crazy, but I can't imagine being without you. Not ever. I don't know how to say this another way. I love you.”  
“You love me?”

He nodded silently.

“Alistair, I love you too.”

I had known it almost since we met, known that I loved him beyond even life itself. It was joy that I surrendered to first, then happiness, and finally utter bliss and contentment. It showed on my face and in my smile, finally taking over my very skin. As I said it, he took one of my hands and pressed his lips tightly to the backs on the fingers before looking up to me and making my stomach flip. A sudden look of nervous determination caught his eyes. I couldn’t have described the earnest desire that I saw there.

“I want to spend to spend the night with you. Here, before we go down the Deep Roads to our fate. Maybe this is too fast, I don't know, but … I know what I feel.”  
“You want to spend the night? Are you sure?” My heart was hammering in my chest, thudding against my ribcage. I wanted this. So badly.  
“I wanted to wait for the perfect time, the perfect place … but when will it be perfect? If things were, we wouldn't even have met.” His wide, amber eyes flittered around with excitement and I found it exhilarating. He moved to stand inches away from me, still holding the backs of my fingers. His body heat radiated off of him and I felt weak. “We sort of … stumbled into each other, and despite this being the least perfect time, I still found myself falling for you in between all the fighting and everything else.”

He bent down to kiss me again, gently this time. His hands cupped my jaw and as he brought his head back, his thumb gently brushed my cheek. He looked sweetly nervous as he stared into my eyes.

“I really don’t want to wait any more. I’ve never done this before. You know that.” he told me lovingly. “I want it to be with you, while we have the chance. In case …”

And then I cut him off. I couldn’t stand it any longer. Alistair Theirin was stood inches from me, loving me, wanting me, and I could have him. My arms wrapped around his neck and I pulled him to me, kissing him as deeply as I could. This was the result of months of tension and love and relationship building. At the end of the day, he was the most handsome man I had ever known and I loved him with a passion that I could feel rising with every moment I stayed kissing him.

Eventually I broke off though. “No need to say anything else. I agree.” I whispered excitedly. I stared up at him, biting my lip with a thrill at what we were going to do.

“What do I do now? Do I take my clothes off?” he asked shyly, his voice showing he was suddenly unsure about what to do.  
“No, my love. You kiss me. Everything else will just happen.” I told him, trying to keep my rampant hormones in check. This was going to happen and it was going to happen now.

I kissed him again before we could change our minds. My hands slipped upwards from his face to run through his hair. Gingerly I could feel his large hands lay on my hips, running around to my back and gently exploring, finding the way slowly in case I changed my mind. They pulled me into him as the kiss deepened. One of mine, shaking like a leaf, found the back of his head and I dragged him towards me, eager to keep him nearby. I was so scared he was going to change his mind and run out of the door.

He broke the kiss and from the ragged breathing, was allowing his passionate side to take over. He was so often the Templar, the bastard prince, the Grey Warden, but never Alistair. Never himself. I could feel it now in how he was acting and it delighted me. Kissing me again, more passionately and uncontrolled this time, he guided me back towards the wall where I was pressed up against it, kept from moving by his tall and strong form as he crushed his lips to mine. Faster and faster the kisses came.

“Okay, stand back a moment.” I laughed, pushing him back a little. A nervous giggle escaped my lips as my fingers found the buttons of his jacket. Trembling, my shaking fingers had trouble with a few of them but eventually I managed to undo. My hands slid up underneath the lapels and up his hard chest. I pushed it off his arms, feeling the firm muscles underneath the cotton shirt. Again my heart hammered against my chest as my hands found the bottom of his shirt. Tugging it slowly out of his trousers, I kept his eyes steadily as I pulled it over his head. He helped me slightly but never left my eyes once. His chest was revealed to me and it was as glorious as I thought it would have been. Staring at it, I ran one nervous hand down it, past the faint blonde hairs that covered him. Grasping my upper arms and running his hands lightly up and down them caused me to shiver slightly. My palm laid flat on his chest and I put my lips to his skin, slowly kissing his chest.

Looking up again, I knew this was it. I felt his hands find my hemline. Lifting my arms, I felt him unclothe me, pulling the dress over my head carefully and dropping it on the floor. I stood before him in my underwear. There it was, my body. Barely clothed. I had never any reason to feel afraid because of it, but now as we stood here, both grown adults, I realised that we were about to do something neither of us had done before. Except me, once, and that didn't count. Only now, with him, counted.

My bra was unhooked and dropped to the floor, and I slid my pants down to the ground. Standing up again, I was completely naked in front of him. Naked and intensely vulnerable, I leaned back against the wall for support. Alistair swallowed as he looked at me, standing slightly back to look me up and down. His naked chest heaved up and down as his eyes travelled over my body. I took the chance to do the same. He was as powerful as I'd ever seen a man and I felt my knees turn weak.

“Your hair. Please unpin it.” he drawled.

Wondering if tonight might be the night, I had redone my hair to be supported by only a few pins. These were quickly removed and my blonde hair fell around my shoulders in waves. I shook it out a little and once more looked him.

“Mia,” he purred, lust flooding his voice and robbing it of strength, “are you really mine?”  
“Maker, yes.” I said in a deep voice driven by hunger for him, feeling my heart take over my own voice. “Are you mine?”  
“All of me, for ever.” he said before catching my face again and kissing me fervently.

I pushed him forward as I kissed him, to guide him backwards towards the bed. His hands snaked over my nearly naked body towards my arse. Yelping, I was picked up and hugged tighter to him. He walked across the room towards the bed, kissing me as I was carried. I was no more than air to him, such were the strength in his arms, but despite this power, he laid me down with infinite care on the bed before climbing on top of me. Laying there underneath Alistair, I felt the full weight of him but he never hurt me, never leaned on me fully. Instead he was on his elbows whilst still feeling as if he was wrapped around me.

I leant my head to one side to expose my neck and pointed to a spot near my ears. “Please,” I begged, “please, kiss me here.”

Immediately he did and his hot breath sent electricity shooting over my body, racing past my breasts and catching my nipples. There seemed to be pathways I'd never known about and they crackled, this one from my neck to between my legs. Still he did it and still those ways pulsed with desire.

He propped himself up on one elbow to look at me. There was a renewed nervousness there as he looked from me to my breasts. I could tell what he wanted.

“Give me your hand.” I instructed to which he obliged. His free hand was brought up to mine and I took it and placed the palm on the waiting flesh of my breast, my own warm hand covering his. A mighty breath was inhaled by him as he stared at his fingers and what lay underneath them. As he caressed them gently, running his hand over the soft skin, he brought his thumb up to play with the nipple. I had never noticed what rough skin he had on his hands until his thumb was teasing me. It sent shots of joy through those new roads he had shown me in my body.

Gently he bent his head down to catch one in his teeth, lightly scraping the sensitive skin and causing me to writhe slightly under him.

“O – oh.” I cried softly. “Again.”

My lover obliged and, unbidden, I felt my thigh come up as he did it to wrap around his waist. My hands once again found his face and I kissed him deeply. His hands travelled up and down my skin, over my arse and as he did so, he started to want to push into me with his hips.

“We need you undressed for that, my darling.” I purred to him, still grazing his jaw with my fingertips.  
“Will trousers not do?” he grinned before returning to my neck and whispering with hot breath, “but they're my best pair.”  
“I'm going to prefer what's underneath it.” I said as I boldly slipped a hand into his trousers.

I wasn't sure what I would find there, whether it would be a good or bad surprise but as my hand wrapped around a large and solid cock, my eyes widened briefly at the size of it. _'But you're so timid!'_ I thought in amazement. _'How can you be hiding this?'_

“On your back.” I instructed.

He rolled over on the large bed and I playfully clambered up onto him. His hands found me quickly and the warm palms pulled my back down towards his waiting body. After kissing him again, I shifted backwards and started to unlace the front of his trousers. Washing my eyes over the large soldier laying prostrate on my bed and looking at me with intent lust, I felt like the only woman in Thedas. Certainly the luckiest one anyway.

I pulled the tops of his trousers and underclothes down, prompting him to lift his arse and reveal what I had to play with. The trousers were removed entirely and Alistair was now naked. Dropping the clothes on the floor at the end of the bed, I climbed back on the bed to get a proper look. I was not proud to say that as I gazed at his swollen cock, my mouth dropped open slightly in surprise at the magnificence of it. Clearing my throat, I looked back to catch his nervous look.

“Is that … okay?” he asked, showing his palms and shrugging his shoulders.

My eyebrows raised and I bit my lip with a disbelieving smile. Silently I nodded my head as I looked back again.

“Very.” I approved, my voice hitching in my throat.

Laying across him, his fingers already starting playing on my back and guiding me back to his face, I could feel his cock pressed against my stomach and I had to move myself slightly for comfort. I resumed kissing him with zeal as he let his hands explore my back, my shoulders, the swell of my arse. They rested there as he kissed me more but as they went on, they travelled back up to my hair.

My breasts were tingling with anticipation, as was my skin. All over there was a growing heat between us as we kissed passionately and then kissed some more. There was a new kind of tension growing between my legs as my heartrate continued to beat loudly. Lust and love were driving my desire to have him to ridiculous levels.

“I want you.” I moaned as he kissed me.  
“You have me.” he replied sweetly, not knowing in the least what I meant.  
“No, I want you, Alistair. Now.”  
“Oh, okay. Let's go then!” he smiled softly as he realised what I meant.

He rolled me onto my back again, slipping his hands under my shoulders as he continued to kiss me. I could feel the head of his cock between my legs and my stomach flipped with anticipation. Reaching down, I guided him to the spot he needed.

“There?” came the gentle question as he looked deep into my eyes.  
“Mm-mmm.” I returned, unable to talk, my arms wrapping around his muscled back.  
“I love you.” he moaned into my ear as he kissed me. “Do you love me?”  
“Always.”

With one great push from his hips, he was in me. My back arched as he did so and my breasts were squeezed against his hot chest. I cried out at the sensation as he seemed to stretch me in ways that were both painful and infinitely wonderful at the same time. He groaned with pleasure into my neck as he felt me close around him. His fingers around my shoulder tightened as he pulled out a little before pushing back into me. Sweet pain caused a tear to form on my eye and it fell down my temple to run into my hair. There was tenderness there as he kissed my lips before sliding in and out. Again and again he did it, each time new sensations were lighting up my body and firing places I didn't even know were inside me.

A tightening was growing between my legs and with it, the most amazing feelings. In, out, in, out, _in_ , out, _in_ , out. He seemed to fit me so well, his cock hitting all the places that I needed. Breathing was coming short and ragged now as lust and pace were building, from both of us. He looked down at me and I saw the need in his eyes, the passion and the desire to have me, possess me, devour me.

Faster and faster he moved, unable to control himself any longer. The great swell of pleasure was building and building – in, out, in, out, faster, faster. Ramming into me, I could hear him start to grunt animalistically into my neck. Any … moment … now … oh, please … Maker ...

“Oh!” I cried as the coiled pressure between my legs finally broke.

Waves of undeniable pleasure flooded my body. My vision blurred a little as I squeezed my eyes shut against the sheer force of it. He cried out into my neck as he came inside me, moments later. I could still feel the wild abandon with which he pushed into me, desperate groans of joy hot against my neck. The last tremors of an intense experience swept across us both.

Slowly, slowly, he came down and gradually stopped pushing into me, coming to a halt.

“Maker's breath.” he panted raggedly, kissing me deeply. “Fuck me, that was amazing. You were amazing. Everything was amazing. I love you.”

He slipped out of me and fell to the mattress to my side, his arm draped over me and still drawing deep breaths to calm down. I was no less composed and was riding the feelings from what had just happened.

“Wow.” I managed to utter, giggling to myself happily. I was just unable to manage anything else, except a massive grin that just would not stop. I rolled my head over to see him, his eyes shining up at me happily, inches from my face. Alistair planted a loving kiss on my lips before turning to lay properly on the bed. I wasn't prepared to let him get away so I rolled with him and snuggled into his chest. His arm wrapped around mine and we both lay there comfortably, naked and warm from our exercise.

“Hmmm,” he hummed contentedly. “You know, according to all the sisters of the monastery, I should have been struck by lightning by now.”  
I lifted my head to look at him with an amazed look. “Not for that performance.” I smiled.  
“Meaning it was so great the Maker Himself has decided to spare me the usual punishment, right? Right?” I nodded vigorously before settling back down again once more. “Awww.”

We lay together for a few quiet moments. My heart was starting to return to normal but was still wildly happy.

“You do realise the rest of our party are going to talk, right? They do that.”  
“First smart comment and I feed them to the Darkspawn.” I murmured into his chest with a smirk. Alistair burst out laughing. “See, this is why I love you.” he said, kissing the top of my head. “So what now? Where do we go from here?”  
“We have a Darkspawn horde to defeat.” I groaned, allowing my mind to drift to tomorrow's plans.  
“You're so practical, you make me proud.” he smiled before whispering, “I love you, Mia.”  
“I love you too Alistair.”

I dragged the blanket up so it covered us both. I didn't know about him but I was starting to feel snoozy. Here I was, snuggled into the bare and naked chest of the man I loved and who also loved me, just having had wild sex with him. I didn't care that I was about to go to my almost certain death. He had just knocked that worry out of me. All I care about was the six-foot-or-so Grey Warden that lay with his warm, hard body just next to mine. In fact, I didn't just care about him. I loved him and he loved me. With that thought curling a smile onto my lips, I gradually felt the exhaustion and release of what we had done claim my mind. Sleep was taking over and I felt my eyelids gently drift shut.

For the first time in a long time, I was happy.


	13. Did I?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair enjoys a wonderful wake-up call with Mia before the group embark on their journey into the Deep Roads.

Oh Maker, her skin.

As my hands ran up her back as she lay on top of me, naked and writhing, I could feel nothing but hot, smooth skin. Her lips were pressed against mine as she kissed me deeply, fully, with no hesitancy. That had been lost. Now, there was no preciousness, no dancing around playing the game. It was full on lust fulfillment. And I couldn't get enough of her body.

Every moment I was finding new favourite places. I had discovered the slope of her neck, where the throat meets the shoulder. That was definitely up there. And her breasts. If I had to mould the perfect set of breasts, I could not have done much better. They were these perfect play things that just looked all kinds of hot. And now I had to kiss them. “Had” to, of course. Because someone was making me. Oh the horrors of what I had to do!

However, my favourite place had to be the dip at the bottom of her back, just above where the arse rose. That, or her stomach. There were just so many to choose from. Her skin was supple, and lithe, and hot, and soft. Oh Maker, she was mine!

Mia moaned a little as I ran the tip of my tongue up the underneath of them to flick her nipple lightly. I could feel them harden a little as a shiver of pleasure rippled over her body. Holding them, I kissed again; those warm, full bags of loveliness. She was on top of me, lowering them to my face. Losing the power to think …

Again she kissed me. Those lips would be the death of me. I could feel her tugging at my shoulder to roll me over on top of her. Well, if she insisted. I had to try and remember what to do but it was a lot easier this time. Not like last night when I felt like I was all thumbs.

Her perfect body was under me now, her hands dancing around the back of my head and playing with my hair. She pulled me in to her face, deeply, lustily kissing me. Her breasts were hot against my chest and it was all I could do to not go every which way at once. I had to concentrate or lose myself. I slowly reached down and placed my cock at the entrance to that warm, wet, heavenly place. I wrapped my arms around her as hers went around my neck, my back, not letting me move.

“Alistair, fuck me. Please.” she groaned, looking me deep in the eye. Just the look alone was going to tip me over the edge.

What had I done to get this woman? Who had I saved? What good deed had I performed that would attract the favour of the Maker and let me have sex with this goddess underneath me?

At once, I pushed in, feeling the heat from her body all around my cock. It was likely being dipped in warm, exquisite honey. The moans from her mouth were right next to my ear, driving me insane with lust. Back again, in again, moving in and out. Her mouth. Need her mouth. Her breasts. Them too. Warm. Soft.

We were riding this together for untold moments as I kissed her neck and her mouth, and anywhere I could get access. She was crying out for me to go faster. There was no need to ask as it was hard not to. Heat was firing off all over my body. I wasn't thinking straight.

Getting urgent now. Her cries were … coming … faster … need this …

Can't...

Hold...

Back...

“Alistair!” she screamed as her body went taut underneath me. Writhing as pleasure flooded her. I did that, I thought excitedly. That same liquid sensation of ecstasy raged through my body and I felt the euphoria everywhere.

Everything tightened. Flood gates, open.

My brain suddenly exploded with adrenaline as I cried out into the room, flowing into her again. And yet once more. There's just no way I could keep this in. My heart was thumping against my chest as I felt myself flow out into her. Those feelings! Oh Maker. New. And I wanted so much more.

But now the thudding and pleasure in my head was slowing down. I could actually see again. My breath could only come out raggedly as my heartrate has reached new highs. When I felt like I could safely come out of her, I rolled back onto the bed, still feeling the spasms of muscles dying down.

“Oh, my love.” Mia called to me. Looking over to where she lay, not far from me, she quickly took my lips for one massive kiss. “That,” she whispered, “was unbelievable.”  
“Not bad at all.” I grinned.

As she rolled over to snuggle into my chest, I felt her warmness against my body. I didn't want her to move, ever. This is how I wanted to stay. Fuck the Deep Roads. The rest of the group can go and clear the Darkspawn, find the Paragon and get the dwarves to ally themselves with the Grey Wardens and with Redcliffe. I just wanted to stay in this bed and be with Mia as many times as she'd let me. Which I suspect would be rather a lot.

It was her that initiated it this morning. I woke first to see her asleep next to me. A smile broke out on my face as I fell even more in love with her. That peaceful face was not what just anyone got to see, only me. And I knew how priveleged I was to see it. With the others around, she was relaxed but there was always a wall up. This, however, was her. Peaceful, serene and utterly beautiful. I lay there for ages, just looking at her sleep. Her blonde hair lay over her face so I gently tried to brush it back. That had woken her up. Those hypnotic blue eyes looked up at me through those heavy lids and she smiled; a warm, slow smile that was just contentment through and through. And all because she had seen me.

“Good morning.”  
“Good morning.” I whispered.  
“You stayed.”  
“Yes. I'm not leaving you now, ever.  You'd better get used to it.”

That answer elicited further languid smiles. It was the truth. I couldn't now leave her. Not ever. Darkspawn would have to drag me off, which they probably would do in the next few weeks so she'd be okay eventually.

“What time is it?” she asked sleepily.  
“I think it's morning. The fire has been lit so someone must have been in. I can hear people moving around in the corridor outside.”  
“Is there anyone in the room now though?”  
“I don't think so.” I propped myself up to have a look for any intruders before laying back down. “No.”  
“Good.” she said seductively, moving closer and pressing her lips to mine.

And so it went. We dressed eventually and rose to meet the world. Leaving her quarters, we found the dining room and saw that breakfast was in full flow. Our group had bandied around one table and so we joined them.

“Good morning everyone!” I said pleasantly, taking a seat next to Wynne.

I noticed that the volume had lessened considerably as we sat at the table. Looking up, I saw that Leliana and Mia were already sharing a knowing glance and smiles. Zevran had sat up straighter with a cocky smirk, as Morrigan was placing something that looked an awful lot like money into his hand, with a sulky look of her own. As I looked at Wynne, she was muttering irritably into her breakfast. Even Sten was growling quietly as he ripped into some bread.

They knew, and I couldn't give a damn. However, that didn't stop the steady flow of crimson take over my cheeks. A plate of eggs, bacon and mushrooms were placed in front of me, with a mug of hot, steaming coffee. I grabbed some bread from a basket in the middle of the table and heartily tucked into it, not caring how hungry it made me look. I had a wide grin on my face and I was happy. In fact, it was all I could do not to chuckle all the time. Every time I thought back on the past night, it made me giggle.

“My dear boy, do stop.” Wynne's maternal, and slightly disapproving, voice sounded from beside me.

I ignored her and carried on grinning, blushing and eating my breakfast. I wasn't going to listen to any negativity today. I had achieved absolute contentment last night and I didn't care who judged me.

 

* * *

 

Maker, _fuck!_

More of them poured out of a side tunnel and I winced at the surge of pain in my head. The singing got louder, and louder, until it was bringing tears to my eyes. I grimaced and gritted my teeth, brutally swinging my sword up to slice a hurlock open from hip to shoulder. My shield then shot out to break a monster's jaw and push him backwards. The bone stuck out through the skin of his face as he lunged again. Already on the down swing, my sword cleaved into his exposed neck, spraying blood over me. I wrenched the blade out before bringing it down to hack the violent cleft open further. Crunching bone and pulsing blood told me that the creature would be dead soon.

I looked around, spitting darkspawn blood onto the floor. Screaming, shrieking, ear-splitting pain of the dark song. Dischordant agony caused my knees to buckle before I bolstered myself. A genlock stood nearby loosing arrows into my friends. I sprinted over and as he wheeled his crossbow around to point at me, I had his arms off with a clean cut, before violently halting the swing of the sword to bring the side of the blade back up, embedding it in the soft, rotten flesh of the torso. I ripped it towards me and putrid entrails slopped through the tear onto the floor.

Fireballs ripped past me to shoot into the narrow opening from where they appeared. Shrill cries of screaming darkspawn roared out of the inferno. Joy flooded me at their burning fate and I turned to see where I else I could point my ire. I saw Sten sever three hurlocks and their heads with one heavy blow, before punching one in the face with the pommel of his sword. I caught only a glimpse of Zevran as he appeared behind an Alpha, seconds before a scarlet line appeared across its throat. It dropped to its knees, gargling and frothing. Some hidden being held the hair on its head as the wound was carved further, jerking the neck and spewing blood everywhere. Eventually the decapitated corpse was booted to the floor and the head rolled across the ground.

A pain exploded in my shoulder and I screamed into the black madness. I had taken seconds to look for my friends and that was all some bastard had needed.  I glanced down to see the end of a curving blade glinting darkly through the joint, the end dripping with blood. It was a moment before I realised it was my sword arm and that my blade had dropped to the floor. Wheeling around in abject agony, I brought my left arm railing backwards to smack my shield into the hurlock that had impaled me. Again I smashed it into its face, and again before I brought the pointed and metal end up to run it through its neck. It stuck there and with a mighty roar, I started running, pushing against it until a wall appeared behind the monster. Its surprised eyes bulged briefly as it stopped suddenly, the impact making sure the bottom of my shield crushed its neck. I pulled it out and spun round. I was weaponless and unable to attack. My heart thudded with fear.

Quickly I sought out Wynne. I could still feel the dagger in my shoulder joint. It jolted searing agony throughout my arm and chest every time I moved. Seeing her close by, I staggered over. A genlock mage silently screamed as I saw lightning crackle over its body, cooking it from the inside. The corpse fell smoking onto the floor.

“Wynne!” I howled, crimson blood pouring down my arm and dripping off of numb fingers.

She spun round and I saw her face pale. The dagger was pulled out but she was still stood in front of me. Confusion mixed with pain made my vision blur and a sickness start to reach up from my stomach. The taint would protect me but darkspawn blades were still evil and I had just had one breaking open my shoulder. Morrigan wordlessly threw the blade to the ground as she silently moved past, taking up a stance to protect us.

“On your knees.” Wynne ordered. “Now!”

I dropped to my knees through queasiness and she already had her hands on the wound. My consciousness wove in and out of reality. Two Wynnes warped and weaved in front of me as warm joy and love spread around my system. With a gristly snapping, I felt my shoulder jerk and tug as the bone first knitted together before the heat built up to a crescendo. My skin sealed up as if a poker was cauterizing it and I gnashed my teeth. Wynne poured a liquid down my throat and instantly I felt the pain ebb into nothing. Standing up, I flexed my fingers, amazed to find they worked.

“My thanks.” I cried as I already glanced round to see where the enemies were. “Morrigan, you too.” but she had already gone.

Looking around, I saw my blade laying on the ground nearby. I ran and snatched it up, launching the tip up through the chin and into the brain of a hurlock. It shook violently and spasmed as it died. My boot pushed it of my blade with a grunt and I spun round, surveying the evil. The singing had subsided for now, I realised, as I saw the creatures were being finished off by the group. The small cavern that the fight had taken place in was dripping in blood as chunks of darkspawn lay scattered about the floor. I could hear the last remaining fights raging in the tunnel.

As I looked around, I realised with mounting dread that I could not see Mia.

“Where is she!?” I yelled in anger and fear as my voice echoed off the ceiling.  
“Here!” came a cry from around the corner in the tunnel where the darkspawn had come from.

As fast as my feet would carry me, I leapt over bodies and horrific matter that oozed onto the cold stone floor. I rounded the corner and my heart almost stopped beating.

Mia lay on the floor, not moving, surrounded by a semi-circle of darkspawn. A giant spider stood over her, spitting acid over any monster that came near her and lashing out with its strong front legs. Its abdomen rose in furious anger, daring any of the monsters to try and take its property. Wynne appeared beside me and immediately I saw her body coil with her arms throwing out a strong wave of magic. My body reeled against the wave of arcana, my Templar senses being beaten aside as fireballs flew past the guardian arachnid. It shattered against the darkspawn band, exploding them into the walls of the tunnel. My arm flew up to brace my face against the blast of heat and light that seared my eyes.

A silence reigned over us all. Blinking, I peered around my forearm to see if we could move. The monsters were gone, dripping down the walls in red slime. The healing mage was already there and Mia was sat up, coughing into her knees as she hugged them and looked up at the spider that now moved amongst the remains of the bodies. Relief flooded me as I saw she was alright but followed her gaze.

The spider! My eyes shot to it and I cried out as I watched it morph and shrink. There was no break or pause but soon Morrigan stood where the eight-legged creature had been, regarding us with the same cool dispassion as she always did. Catching my eye, she looked away quickly, turning away to watch the black tunnel. I walked over and dropped to the floor besides Mia, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” I panted.

She nodded silently, still regarding the witch with a turmoil inside her.

“Help me up.” she asked me.

Gingerly, I took her proferred hand and helped her to standing. Her fingers brushed my cheek and she shot me a look of gratitude. I saw her stumble over to where the dark mage stood, guarding our way with an extraordinary defiance, and place a hand on her. Morrigan turned at her touch, jerking back slightly at the intrusion. I couldn't hear what Mia whispered to her but I couldn't tear my eyes away either. I don't know what she said but I was shocked to see the witch's features soften after a few moments, and her head graciously nodded before she resumed her watch of the darkness.

And I could have sworn, though I'd never be able to prove it, that I saw the briefest glimpse of that most rare of things. Did I imagine it? Maybe, maybe not. However, as I stood there, still grimy with blood and sweat, I was convinced that I had.

I _may_ have seen Morrigan smile.


	14. A dream recinded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group find themselves in the Brecilian Forest with booze and a campfire. Leliana and Zevran try and coax their friend into trying something new.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter doesn't have the ending I imagined, nor the content ;) But as I was writing it, it all felt right. Hope you like it!

My bags were dropped like iron weights down onto the bare earth where they kicked up some dust. I didn't care as I sat my tired body down on a log, slumping my head forward into my hands. Only a few moments of exhausted self-pity was allowed before I ran my fingers through my dirty hair, tied it back into place and sat back up to look out over the other members of our little band trouping into the small campsite we had found. I leaned my chin forward onto my hands and smiled as I locked eyes with them all, or tried to at least. The only person that bounded into camp was Dog and he ran up to me straight away, snuffling his way into cuddles. With a smile that he could always produce from me, I scratched behind his ears as he whined with friendliness.

“Thank you.” I whispered to him, and I genuinely meant it. I had needed something to make me smile.

We were so nearly there, so very nearly at the epicentre of the shit-storm engulfing Ferelden. After Orzammar, we had travelled along the Imperial Highway to Denerim to deliver dragon scales to Wade and his magical furnaces. I didn't even want to take my lovely new armour off at the end of the day, such was the finesse and brilliance he had poured into making something special. I had paid for it but Maker it had been worth it. From the capital, we had begun the last part of our seasons long journey; the descent into the Brecilian Forest. The going was all kinds of slow. The trees and the ground were warped into one unending melee of natural beauty and dangerous journeying. We had to fight through it, had to keep going. We needed the Dalish, and we were so close.

However, I needed a bath so I started the tedious process of unstrapping and unbuckling. There was a river flowing through the forest and we were camping on a flat patch of grass near it. The heat inside the place was mounting with every passing hour as well. Because of the density of the place there wasn't a great deal of breeze and the humidity was making the travelling even more slow-going. Mercifully, near the river the canopy was a little thinner so the air was a little easier to breath.

“They will have their eyes on us already.” said a wonderful voice before a mouth planted a kiss on the top of my head. I looked up at Alistair and smiled.  
“No doubt.”  
“Morrigan is already scouting the surrounding area. She told me and was gone before I could call her back.”  
“That's okay. I wouldn't want to be the one to hold her back.”

He smiled as he eased down onto the log beside me.

“It would take a special kind of crazy to do that, and get away with it.”  
“Does Zev need any help with the kill?”  
“No. He and Sten are butchering it now.”  
“I suppose I should help them. It's my turn to make the fire. I need to get kindling.”  
“Just who do you think it is you kiss at night?” he asked with a grin in his voice.  
“Why?” I smiled back as he nodded his head to the bundle of wood sitting just to his right. I hadn't even noticed.  
“I've been picking good bits up as we've travelled. It's not too much more to carry and I knew you'd be exhausted.” he said, sliding an arm around my shoulders and pulling me into a hug. I turned and buried my face into his chest.  
“Thank you.” I whispered.

In a moment of luxurious abandon, I made the decision to stay in the hug and not jump straight to my chores. After a few minutes though, my conscience got the better of me and I pulled loose. Pushing up off of my seat, my fingers trailed over his cheek as he smiled after me. We both went about our jobs; he to setting up the tents and I to the fire, and we fitted into the evening dance that happened in any of the places we stopped for the night. Wordlessly people knew what jobs had to be done and went about them. Yes, there were moans and occasionally angry shouting and fights, but it needed to happen occasionally. It had to be released. Otherwise we'd go mad.

An hour later we were sat round a roaring fire with a butchered forest goat roasting on the spit, dripping fat onto the hot wood and smelling delicious. Oghren propped himself up against one of the logs someone had dragged to the fire and passed round a bottle. Maker only knew where he kept finding these from but on cold nights, the liquour was most welcome. I put the bottle to my lips and drank heartily.

And almost spat it straight back out again.

It burned, almost all of the way down, producing some strange metallic taste in my mouth. I coughed as soon as I could and almost retched. My vision waivered a little before I could speak, and even then it was hoarse.

“Where the fuck did you find that?” I wheezed.  
“This? Well, this is from the family vaults. I've carried this since leaving the stone behind. It's good stuff.” he bragged.  
“That it is.” I said, braving another swig before handing it on.

It was another hour before we could eat and by that time, most of Oghren's bottle had gone. We were all a little merry but everyone had descended into their own little conversations. Alistair had gone for a little nearby wander into the woods and I stared after him, wondering if I should follow for some alone time. Before I could make the decision, two people had sat down, flanking me on the log on which I sat. To my left, Zevran stared with a smirk on his face, sitting astride the log and fully facing me. To my right, Leliana sat with a fake innocent look but I knew that she was thinking nothing even remotely pure.

“What now?”  
“So,” Zevran asked, sidling up even closer to me, “we need some details.”  
“About what?” I asked innocently, making my eyes all the more doe-like as I felt the corners of my mouth ride up.  
“You and Alistair. Together, looking contented. You even have a … glow about you. So shameless.” Leliana grinned. “You've been sleeping with him for two weeks now, and it's been a week since I was forced to share a tent with Morrigan to make way for six-foot of muscle. And leanness. And … all good things.” Leliana said, her words started to slur. Evidently Oghren's liquor had been passed to her as well.  
“Tell us anything.” Zev asked with large, puppy dog eyes.  
“No.” I grinned. “I'm a lady.”  
“I told you, little bird, she won't say anything.” Zevran said across me, talking directly to Leliana.  
“That is true. She is so genteel and refined. She'd never tell us anything, including any of the good details. Those long nights. He must be delightful. She wouldn't be so happy otherwise, I think.”  
“I bet he has a cock of pure gold.” he mused.

I snorted with laughter at that one.

“I assure you, it is not made of gold.” I confirmed, blushing as I did so. I reached my hand out to Oghren and flexed my fingers. He read the sign and passed me the bottle. Another swig almost set my throat on fire but I needed it to steady myself against what I knew would be an onslaught.  
“Pure silk then.” Zevran purred. “Tell me it is.”  
“You believe what you want, you dirty little pervert.” I smiled. Glancing over at him, he seemed to brighten at the compliment and sit up a little higher.  
“At least give us some clues as to size. We need this.” Leliana whispered with a smile, leaning in closer to plead with me. “We've seen him shirtless. We're only human.”  
“Big?” Zevran purred into my ear.

My self restraint was beginning to break down so I raised my eyebrows quickly with a mischievous smile, and stared at the fire.

“Now we're getting somewhere!” Zev grinned. “Oh, the things I could do to that man.”  
“The things I already do to that man.” I winked at him.  
“The little Templar is all grown up and apparently he plays well with others.” Leliana giggled softly.  
“He must taste wonderful.” Zevran sighed drunkenly with a smile.  
“Taste?” I wondered with a questioning furrow of my brow, my head bobbing as I turned to look at him. Maker, the drink was getting to me.  
“Mia, Mia, Mia. Please tell me you have sampled the delicious delights of his cock?” he asked, a look of horror crossing his face.

I swung my head to look for help from Leliana but she was looking incredulous.

“You haven't given him the pleasures of your mouth yet?”  
“No?”  
“I insist you try it, tonight even! It can bring a man even more under your control.” she purred. “Trust me.”  
“Now, if you wanted to make him squeal even more, this is what you do ...” Zevran started, inching forward with a zeal in his eyes and raising his hands ready to demonstrate something. It was obvious he was desperate to impart some of his knowledge but he was interrupted by Alistair returning from the woods.  
“What is this discussion? Is it all secrets and mysteries, or can anyone join in?” he sat down and asked. Alistair was a very happy inebriate when he had been drinking. He just wanted to be friends with people, even more than normal. “What were you whispering about?” he asked, dropping his voice to a low level.  
“Big, _big_ secrets.” Zevran grinned.  
“I'm sure you'll find out, you lucky man.” Leliana asked rising from her seat, giggling as she did so. She moved off to get some food now Sten was serving, dragging Zevran with her.  
“What are you giggling about? Wh-what is she giggling about?” Alistair asked, suddenly nervous.  
“You and your performance.” I leaned into him and whispered before kissing him lightly on the ear.  
“My performance?” came the naïve response. I could see the internal whirrings of his mind kicking into action as he suddenly realised and moaned, “why does it warrant giggling?”  
“It doesn't.” I purred into his ear, taking a lobe and sucking it gently. I was confident nobody could see me. “I love it.”  
“Mmm...” he mumbled, moving from insecurity to discrete moans of pleasure. “Careful,” he whispered back, “our tent is only over there. I may have to steal you away.”  
“So take me. Nobody is watching. I'll disappear into the woods that way,” I nodded gently, “and I'll meet you back in the tent in a moment.”  
“How will you get back?”  
“I'm a rogue. Sneaking is what I do best.” I told him with a wink.  
“Tempting but even I, in love with your body as I am, would balk at fucking you feet away from the rest of our party.”  
“You do very well at night.” I grinned at him, kissing him briefly.  
“When everyone else is asleep and no-one has seen us disappear into our tent.”  
“Spoil my fun, why don't you?”

I could feel the coilings of lust start to snake through my body. My own hands hugged my stomach in an effort to distract from the yearning I was having for Alistair to be inside me. Every night since Orzammar, often multiple times a night, he had made me scream silently into the cold air of our tent. Others knew what we were doing but aside from the odd looks from Wynne and grumbles from Sten, no-one cared.

The evening passed as most did; with stories from Zevran and Leliana, alcohol from Oghren, orders from me about patrols during the night. Tonight, mercifully and delightfully, I had the evening and night off. My rotas had fallen perfectly. The night air was balmy by the time we pulled ourselves towards sleep. I decided to visit the river for a quick drink before returning to my gorgeous lover who was, quite possibly by now, naked and waiting for me. Probably on purpose but the stories had turned quite raucous with hints of the erotic, and it was having the desired effect. Whenever I caught the eye of the storytellers, my own narrowed but they looked away innocently, without the faintest glimpse of culpability. Alistair would blush as he usually did but plant kisses on my cheek and whisper into my ear. Words of love and promises of the ardent lover.

“Promise me that this moment, this bubble of ours, will never go away.” he hummed at one point, resting his chin on my shoulder and whispering warmly into my ear.  
“This moment?”  
“Here, with you, now.”  
“You mean, later, in the tent, naked?”

Alistair pulled back a little, shock claiming his face briefly.

“No, not even remotely. I have you and I have my sword. I don't have to impress people, I don't have to be the King that Arl Eamon wants me to be. I just have to be Alistair. You have no idea how precious that is to me. That … anonymity.”  
“I love you.” I said, gazing into his eyes that had temporarily dulled with sadness. “If I have to fight to keep you with me, and keep you being my Alistair – not Ferelden's Alistair – then I will. I will fight through an army of darkspawn and a legion of Archdemons to keep you with me. We will not be separated, my love.”  
“Never?”  
“Never.”

I had smiled at him and kissed his mouth, a little more passionately than I should have done, given the audience but the drink, the story and the man were throwing my caution to the dogs. As I stumbled ineptly across the forest floor towards the quiet hum and babble of the river, for a quick drink of water before bed, I kept thinking about the dare I had received from my two conspirators. I would, tonight. I would try their dare. I had never done it before but I knew Alistair would enjoy it.

As my feet crossed the small, shingled beach, I glanced up to see a hunter's moon gleaming ominously over me. Dull silvers and greys streaked across the stony floor, and a ghostly blue clung to everything. I scooped up the deliciously icy water into my mouth and washed the stringent taste of Oghren's booze away. Shaking the water from my now numb hands, I glanced around.

A yelp escaped my lips, panic quickly ensuring I reached for the blades that were not strapped to my back.

A figure stood at the other end of the beach. One in darkness and silence. When my senses had returned, and my woozy eyes looked properly, I saw the feathered pauldron covering one shoulder and the tall, thin staff.

“Morrigan? Fuck! You scared me.”

The embarrassed laughter tripped over the cobbles towards her and she lifted the hood. The silvery light from the moon just somehow … worked with her. She had always been magnetic, darkly so, and so beautiful, but now she seemed somehow _alive_.

“Forgive me.”  
“Where have you been?”  
“Following the archers who even now sit around this campsite. They are a foolish band.”

Her voice seemed contemptuous as her ivory white face lifted and scanned the treeline. Strangely, with her here beside me, I felt safer than I had at any other time. Forgetting the fact that she had told me I was even now being watched.

“It is good to have you back with us. I was worried.”

There wasn't even a movement as she continued to focus on the far bank of the river. The moonlight highlighted her porcelain skin, lending it an ethereal glow.

“... you were?”  
“Very much so.”  
“Thank you. Mia … ?”

She turned and stared at me, closer than before but I had not seen her move.

“Yes?”  
“This is hard for me. I have not had friends. 'Tis a strange feeling to have someone to protect.”  
“Morrigan...” I started as I felt concern for her flood me. This was the most she had said to me in a long time. “Are you okay?”

Another moment of silence.

“I need to tell you something that I fear you may not like to hear.”  
“You can tell me anything.”  
“You and the princeling. You are … happy, with him?”  
I smiled. “Very.”  
“The taint will not allow him to give you a child. Nor you to bear his.”

I was so very intensely aware of my own heartbeat. This was so far from what I had expected her to say. I had never stopped to think of the future, only as far as the Archdemon anyway, but now a deathblow to any happiness past that epic battle.

“But Alistair will become King. He will need an heir.”  
“You will not be the one to give it to him.”  
“Is it so very impossible?”  
“I do not say this lightly, and only because you are the one friend I have ever had. I do not wish you to dream and have those dreams shattered. It is wisest you know now so you will be hardened later.”

It was strange but the woman was trying to be selfless, in her own way. The air was thick around me anyway and I found I was struggling to take a breath. I didn't know I even wanted children but to have a future taken away from me before I had even had a chance to think about it? That was hideous. A cold shudder ran through me as the alcohol burned off. I was thinking too clearly now. I needed to talk to Alistair. He had to know. He had to be made aware of the situation before it got out of hand. Ferelden would have him as King if I could make it so, but Ferelden would also need an heir. And I wasn't to be the one to give it to him. An evil thought flittered through my mind as I turned wordlessly back to the camp that Morrigan could be making it up but as I glanced back over my shoulder, she still looked at me. I knew with every beat of my heart that she was telling the truth. Fear ran through my body that Alistair would be forced to leave me, not through choice but through duty. My heart beat faster as I saw the flames of the campfire lick the underside of the trees. What would I tell him?

Why did Morrigan have to be so fucking right all the time?


	15. A curse denied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans with the Brecilian Forest are set in motion.

Something wasn't right.  

I wish I could say that I was as calm as Mia as we walked into the cavernous hall that smelled of the earthy forest, and of wet dog.  Trees wrapped themselves around huge stone pillars as if they had grown towards the cracks in the roof together, seeking the sunlight of old.  The sunlight seemed to burn it's way into the stone palace, disturbing the cool air but adding to what could only be described as serenity.  An uneasy one though for the seven-foot, hulking werewolves that formed a threateningly dark honourguard for us growled and snarled, slathering and gnashing their maws as we passed.  Teeth were bared and instincts ignited as we walked before them.  I allowed myself an occasional glance at the beasts - indeed, it was difficult to keep my eyes forward and away from them - but Mia's head never seemed to waiver.  I could see that Wynne tried to do the same and so I tried to follow suit too, difficult though it was.

We were being led towards a central dais that was in the centre of this immense room.  Trees that were metres in diameter stood an immovable sentry behind the living wall of werecreatures, roots spilling out over the floor like writhing snakes of living wood.  As we drew nearer, a crescendo of snarls and baying howls broke upon us.  Beyond the sounds that clung to my ears and dulled my senses into fear, there was something else; they were frightened, and were responding to that fear with outright aggression.  What were they so afraid of?  We had fought through their kindred as we journeyed to the temple at the centre of the forest.  I suppose that warrior spirit was sparking something within them but what?

Something slight stirred behind them and a sense of calm rippled over the room.  My eyes fell to the woman who moved through the creatures, soothing as she went.  She was incredible to behold.  Tendrils of wood and fauna snaked up her limbs and bound her green skin in a beauty I had not beheld before.  But it was her eyes that captured me the quickest; completely black.  Yet what should have been making me want to run and find a chantry sister to hide behind, made me want to fall into and succumb.  I loved Mia but this creature was bewitching.  It was plain to see what the wolves were afraid of - that we would hurt so enchanting a woman.

"I bid you welcome, mortal." came the voice that flowed with autumn song and sylvan majesty.  "I am the Lady of the Forest."

Swiftrunner barked words at Mia who turned with wide eyes at the outburst.  "Do not listen to her, my Lady.  She will betray you.  We must fight her now!"  
"Hush, Swiftrunner.  Your urge for battle has only seen the deaths of the very ones you have been trying to save.  Is that what you want?"

She looked at him as his head dipped in submission.

"No, my Lady.  Anything but that."  
"The time has come to speak with this outsider.  I apologise on Swiftrunner's behalf.  He struggles - with his nature."  
"You lead the werewolves?" Mia asked.  
"I offer them guidance but I do not command them.  No doubt you have questions, mortal.  There are things that Zathrian has not told you."

My eyes flicked to Mia's face to find she had looked at me.  Wordless anxiety was shared between us.  This was what we had feared.  The stories he had told us had just not _felt_ right.

"There is always two sides to every story." Mia offered diplomatically.   _Well avoided, my love_.  I could see that her fingers were flexing, a telltale sign that she was filling with rage.    
"It was Zathrian that created the curse that these creatures suffer - the same curse that Zathrian's own people now suffer."

And that was when things clicked into place.  The Lady proceeded to tell us of how Zathrian had fallen to the ways and paths he had now chosen.  I was left feeling bereft that something so heinous could have happened to his family but did that really excuse what he had done?  I tried to understand him, tried to get inside his mind, but I couldn't.  I looked at Swiftrunner as he stared at Mia, willing her to understand, and it was there.  The light that shone out of his eyes was not animal, but human.  There was a life in there that was not bestial.  In that moment, I had made my choice about whose side I was on and waited to see if Mia did the same.

"Please, mortal," began the Lady, "you must go to him.  Bring him here.  If he sees these creatures, hears their plight, surely he will agree to end the curse."  
"What if he does not wish to come alone?"  
"Tell Zathrian this." she said, for the first time a sneer bending her lips.  "If he does not come, if he does not break the curse, he will never find Witherfang and he will never cure his people."

Mia looked at the woman for a long time before her head bobbed quietly and she turned to walk back through us.  She threw me the most brief of glances.  I shared the rage of hers for these imprisoned people and I knew she had decided the same as me.  

Zathrian must be brought to bear for what he had done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first writing I've done in a while, and especially on this story. Consequently it may be a little ropey so apologies if it is. Thank you if you don't think so ;)


	16. A good King, a true King

Anora raised a glass of wine in toast to all those who had fallen.  Tomorrow would be a big day and my mind was full of what it would entail.  The crowded room followed suit.  A few seconds of mute solemnity as we sipped from our glasses before, once again, eyes fell on the Queen Consort.  After Anora had been seated, we all did the same.  With a sombre smile to Arl Eamonn who sat to my left, I sat down as the servants pushed my chair in.

We had been in Denerim for four days now, tidying up loose ends.  First Anora, then the Alienage was starting to break - we would have to head in there soon - and now the Landsmeet.  It loomed over us like a skull-splitting headache that threatened to rent our minds asunder.  Even now, as the conversation in the room slowly gathered volume, soft and ever-present worries rumbled around the back of my thoughts.  Another mouthful of wine would see it off.  I could not sit and massage my temples, no matter how much I longed to do so, as it would send a wrong message.  The people gathered in this room were among the great and powerful in Thedas.  They needed me and they needed to believe that Thedas was strong.  At the moment, Thedas sat behind this table.  Anora, that snotty _bitch_ , sat in the centre of the top table - a fitting place for the widow of the fallen King.  But who was she by herself, I found myself angrily thinking.  Arl Eamon sat to the right of her and I sat next to him.  The Queen Consort, the future King, the Grey Wardens, the Arl who had called the Landsmeet; the power and politicking was making my skin itch.  Alistair sat to my right, already eating and talking gaily with Teagan, blissfully unguarded as to what tomorrow meant to him.  At least that's what it seemed like.  There was no way that I would let anyone else be King, especially not that anathema who called himself Loghain.  He was in Denerim, our spies had us so, but we had not seen him yet.  I did not want to.  Those poisonous emotions were best kept wrapped up until tomorrow.  I would end him then.

As I thought of Loghain, my mind drifted over to the stifling problem that sat three people to my left.  Anora, with her porcelain beauty and cunning eyes, played the part so fucking well.  Eamon talked in mute, serious tones at close quarter.  Was he hedging his bets?  Was he unsure of Alistair's claims?  I suppose that if Alistair was to fall, then the Arl should make sure he was not totally out of Anora's camp.  That  _harpee_ would unseat us at the last moment.  I could almost taste the deception in her actions.  Every fibre of me did not trust her yet here she was, playing Eamon like a fiddle.  And he seemed happy to play along.   _Tomorrow_ , I thought,  _tomorrow would see it right_.

A hand suddenly covered my own and it stirred me from my thoughts.

"It will be okay." came the warm tones of my beloved as he lifted my hand and kissed the backs of my fingers.  
"Was it that obvious?" I smiled, feeling the creaking of my eyes as I failed to be genuine.  
"Everyone can see that you think of nothing else.  You cannot even focus on the food in front of you." Alistair softly grinned.  
"I can so."  
"Then what is for dinner?"

I tried to concentrate, tried to remember, but there was nothing there.  I just couldn't and I could feel my cheeks blush as I looked guiltily up at him.  There was a crinkle in his eyes as he smiled.

"Roast lamb with a rosemary crust, potatoes _à_ _la Rivain_ , forest peas, onions in gravy, and gallons of red wine."   
"Impressive." I smiled as I squeezed his hand in gratitude.  For a few moments he had managed to make me forget about the black clouds of tomorrow.    
Leaning over so his lips were next to mine, he whispered "I will make you forget later.  That is a promise."

His hot breath against my neck made my toes curl and my eyes drift shut.  Promises of bare skin and pleasure took the pain of decisions not yet made and shook them.  My tired eyes felt a fire stir as I looked gratefully at Alistair.

"I will hold you to that." I flirted, feeling the edges of my mouth curl up.  
"Damn right you will, as I will hold you tight to me." he said before smiling broadly and turning back to his glass.  

I took the chance to do the same and reached for the goblet.  The Alistair that I saw was not the same as the one that he presented to others.  Did I get to see the real him, or did he put on a performance just for me?  My heart tended towards the first option, and my mind followed most of the time.  He was brave, warm, and kind, and sensual and seductive when he wanted to be; a ground shift away from the man he had started off as.  I raised the wine to my lips and drank, allowing my searching eyes to roam over those gathered.  They enjoyed the food and company, and laughter permeated every shadow of the room, but I wondered how many enjoyed the closeness to the power instead.  My father's court had always had its fair share of bootlickers and sycophants.  It would be my job to sort them out from those we would really need.  Alistair would be friends with everyone if I was to let him.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" I asked him, more testing the waters than anything else.

Uncharacteristically, he took a deep sigh and leaned his cheek on his fingers.  Exhaling through his nose, he paused.

"Every single night, as I lay down to sleep, I see the field at Ostagar.  Bodies broken against the ground, blood soaking through the levels of the earth.  Madness clings to the edges of my mind as I try not to look around.  But I can't help it, and eventually I have to.  On one side is my brother, on the other side is Duncan.  Family, both of them - and both dead."  He stopped to sip his wine, signalling to a nearby servant for a refill.  It was dutifully done and he turned to me.  His eyes had turned cold.  "I have been waiting what feels like the length of an age to take his head.  I will relish it, I tremble for it, and I will have it."

I was shocked.  I had never heard him talk like that, about anyone.  The rage that raced in him called to my own grief and those images that haunted him now seared my own mind.

"It is likely you will have your quarry tomorrow, my love."  
"Indeed."

I did not even want to mention the crown.  It would have belittled the pain he was now in.  It was strange to talk of killing the man whose daughter sat three people away from us.  In silence we sat as I waited for my Alistair to return.  With a visible shake of his head, he eventually turned and held my eyes with a magnetic smile, the gloom gone for the moment.  

"Let's eat, before the food returns to the fields from whence it came.  It does look delicious.  Do you think there will be a cheese course?" he asked with a daft grin.

And with that, he became the loveable fool I knew.

 

* * *

 

Fast the kisses came as he pressed me into the wall of our bedroom.  His mouth crushed against me, his lips seeking the warmth of my skin.  Passionately his fingers fumbled for the lacing that held together the front of my dress, before catching the sides and simply wrenching it open.  The rush of air on my breasts was cool against the heat of him.  Rapidly he shed his jacket as he stayed stuck to my mouth, determined not let me get away.  Excitedly my own hands disrobed him and the jacket fell to the floor in a heap.  

My neck!  His searching mouth was on my neck as his rough hands delved into my dress to find my breasts.  In his eagerness to get to them, for a moment he forgot himself and tried to bend to them but missing.  I yelped as I felt myself suddenly lifted so he could get nearer to them.  Sucking, lashing, biting; Maker, I was on fire for him!  My fingers held his head close to me so he would forever give me those flashes of pleasure that came from his mouth on my nipples.  Heat seared my skin and I moaned into the room, desperate for him.  I was stuck between his body and the wall, unable to escape as he smashed his way through my desire.  He had his own needs and he would have them fulfilled.

"Maker, Alistair!  Undo your fucking trousers!" I shouted as I guided his mouth back to mine.

Gracelessly he put me down quickly and took the chance to rip off his shirt.  My underpants were removed and thrown across the room, and before I knew it I was being pressed against the wall again as my skirts were being drawn up.  He was hard already, that much was obvious against my thigh.  Thick and sturdy was how I knew he would be.  Breathlessly I licked my lips and smiled, my eyes drifting close as I was already envisioning him inside me.  My arms clamped around his bare shoulders, hardly letting him move away.  

He was in me before I had time to think, stretching me with that sweet pain.  A cry laced with rasping joy escaped my mouth as he fucked me.  Moaning and breathlessness turned to grunting, animalistic sounds as he pushed further and further.  Breasts, neck, mouths, shoulders; all were being searched and sucked.  His mouth next to my ear told me he was close.  Not that I wouldn't be far behind.  The coils of pleasure were there but small, and knowing the heat that sang between us, and the force with which he thundered into me, my own screaming joy would be quick to arrive, and so ragingly intense.  Yes, here it came.  Pounding, distracting, dizzying, forceful, incredible ...

_"OH!"_  

Cries of passion and of sweet agony rebounded off the stone walls as my body erupted into white rapture.  Snarls and gritted teeth told me that Alistair was coming, when suddenly he gasped and cried out, his hips momentarily stopped in the midst of thrusting.  When he had regained his breath, he moved again in me but this time slower, until he came to a stop.  His hot, trembling and sweaty chest pressed against mine as he leaned against me, hardly daring to move.  I could hear him swallowing as if his throat was completely dry.  He started laughing softly as he found his breath at last.

"Maker, Mia.  That," he swallowed, "was amazing."  
"That wasn't just amazing - that was fucking incredible."

When we both felt as though we could stand without hanging on to the wall for support, I led him by the hand to the bed.  He followed me like the loveable puppy dog he was, still blinking from exertion and a rampant grin spreading across his face.  Naked Alistair was an almighty sight to behold; hard, lean muscle with rough skin that told of adventure and heroism on the open road.  He was majestic, and he was mine.

"Are you afraid?" I asked him softly as he lay down beside me, his arm open and ready for me to snuggle into.  "Of tomorrow?"  
"Of what?  Losing a crown I never had?  Of course not.  It would not upset me in the slightest if I never wear the infernal thing."  
"Really?  Then what the hell have we been pursuing all this time?"   
"The only thing that truly worries me is Loghain will escape justice.  This will be the first time I have seen him since his betrayal and ..."

Emotions cleaved Alistair's voice.

"My love, we have worked the system.  We have saved all those we meant to.  All these political intrigues that you hate so much?  This is what will win you the justice you - and I - desperately seek.  We have the backing of the Landsmeet ..."  
Alistair interrupted with a snort.  "You don't know that!"   
"I don't for definite, that's true, but I've been raised to play their game and I have played it well.  You have to trust me.  Tomorrow when we walk in there, Loghain will not leave - and it will be you that denies him his exit."  
"Then why is my stomach burbling and telling me that I won't?  That he will walk away, acquitted by the Lords of the land?"  
"My love, do you trust me?"  
"Of course."  
"Then you have to accept that I know everything will be alright tomorrow."

For all his protestations, I knew that Alistair did care.  He cared about making sure justice was served, he cared about Ferelden, and I knew he cared about.  If he was to assume the crown tomorrow, he would put all his heart into it.  I knew he would make a great king.  

But first, Loghain.


	17. The easiest decision by far

The day had started off so well.  Mia had made love to me twice, bathed with me, filled my ear with sweet nothings and words of encouragement, had the servants bring breakfast to my room, picked out clothes for me to wear, and not mentioned the Landsmeet once.  She had tried to fill my morning with wonderful distraction and it had certainly worked.  I had not slept last night, mostly for her insatiable appetite though.  Oh Maker, my cheeks!  It wasn't like she wouldn't be important today - she led the Grey Wardens after all - but her focus had been on whether I could survive it.  Last night I had lain in bed listening to her breathe, interrupted only by bouts of gusty rain against the leaded windows in our room.  Short blasts had disturbed us and Mia had shivered in her sleep.  Immediately I tried to cover her but she rolled over in her sleep and nestled into my chest.  Why would I even want to move ever again?  

In that early morning bliss, where we were both snuggled up in a warm bed, with no noise to disturb us and only memories of those who existed outside this little bubble of our room, I decided I needed to stay like this forever.  I simply couldn't think of existing without her.  All facets of my soul seemed to exist only to please her; those that weren't preoccupied with fighting the Blight, that is.  Food would taste of nothing without her to share my table with.  I couldn't imagine drinking wine if the bottle wasn't to be poured into two glasses.  Passion didn't exist if it wasn't her body to enjoy.  Music and song seemed brighter when she was nearby, and more worth the exercise to enjoy them.  

I had never been in love before I had met her.  I knew now, with the very fullness of my soul, that Mia _was_ love to me.

I needed to marry her.  As soon as I had settled on the idea, it wasn't a rush of excitement and explosions in my head as I had expected it to be.  There was no pounding in my head, or indecision, or instant regret.  I felt the gentle warmth of certainty.  It was relaxation that flooded me, not dread, as if I had just been waiting for my mind to catch up and make the decision.

I couldn't do it before the Landsmeet though.  Not only did I not want to influence any decisions made but I didn't want to distract Mia from the task ahead.  As she skipped about the room that previous morning, she wore a smile but she could not hide from me.  She never mentioned the Landsmeet but in the quiet corners of the room when she thought I couldn't see her, I watched her bright eyes fall.  They settled on some unknown time or place for a few stolen moments, before catching herself and forcing gaiety into her stride.  For this determination to make _my_ day as bright as possible, I loved her.

That was why I was on this road in Denerim.  This one in particular.  I had seen it from our treks through the city to find those nefarious agents that we had been paid to defeat.  This road was full of low-ceilinged shops with fat-timbered front windows that held treasures for a price.   _Rich_ treasures from the grizzliness of the oafs that protected it.  Why did I feel fear?  I was a Grey Warden that had defeated dragons, skinned them and used their hide for armour.  Maybe they knew who I was.  Maybe they were menials of Loghain, come to rob or wound me and stop me from attending the Landsmeet.  With a rush of fear and a quickening of the heart, I realised that maybe I shouldn't have come alone.  But alone I was, and now I was here, nothing would stop me from finding what I wanted.

A low stoop saw me enter a room where dark, wooden cupboards and glass cabinets covered the walls.  A man with an observant eye marked my arrival very keenly but continued to count out silver coins on the desk he sat behind.

"How may I help you, good sir?" came a kindly voice.  The warmth surprised me as his eyes had held me pinned to the spot with a cold intellect.  
"I need to buy a ring."   
"For a good lady, I presume?"

I nodded meekly, fully aware of the brute that stood mute sentry at the doorway to a dark passage that led off the back wall.  Slowly the man turned round and unlocked a small cabinet to his left, removing a small bag made of velvet.

"You've never done this before, have you?"  
"Not once.  I need help." I tried to reply affably.  
"Tell me about the lady."

How do I describe Mia?  

"She is highborn, but free from affectations.  Beautiful, but with an air of approachability that true warmth brings.  She appreciates well-crafted swords but will fight with a wooden club if the need arises.  She has a great eye for detail, this is true, but likes things to work as a whole picture.  She is wonderful.  She is warm and loving, and, well ... mine." I said with a happy shrug as I looked up at him and smiled.  
"Does such a woman exist?" he finally grinned and said.    
"She does, I assure you."  
"Does she wear jewellery?"  
"Occasionally.  Our occupation is such that we cannot wear it much.  We would either lose it, or it would accidentally rip flesh from our bodies."  
"You are both soldiers?"  I nodded.  "So something plain ..."  
"But beautiful - to match her loveliness."

The bag in front of him was tipped into a small tray that sat on his desk, and a multitude of rings fell out.  They were gaudy, with filigree and jewels making glints of light flash in my eye.  With a deft finger, the jeweller sorted through the array and picked up one.  As it dropped into my hand, I could feel almost instantly that it wasn't right.  It was too heavy.  The design was all wrong; wreaths of ivy and flowers wrapped around a silver band.  It was large and flashy.

"Nice, but not right." I said, trying to sound grateful as I handed it back.  With an emotionless face once more, he dropped the ring back into the black bag.  
"Okay ... " he muttered as his eyes drifted over the pile.  "What about this one?  Hewn from the gold mines of Orlais, and encrusted with rubies and sapphires.  A worthy bauble for such a highborn woman."

He held out a trinket that weighed even more than the previous.  It was stunning - there was no doubt about it - but it just wasn't right.  Over the next ten minutes, he showed me all manner of rings - gold ones, silver ones, pewter ones, ones studded with crystal, a lyrium ring, weighty rings that were the length of a finger, ones imbued with magical properties - and many more.  I sensed he was starting to get fretful when my eyes fell on one in the pile left on the table.  A small, tender thing of thin silver.  My fingers reached out for it and I stared silently at it, at the small drop of faint green crystal that had been set into the side.  It was perfect.  Beautiful, unpretentious, elegant -  _Mia_.

"I can sell you better pieces than this." said the jeweller as he saw that I was quickly becoming enamoured with such a plain trinket.  "Come, see the wonderful rings I have in my back room.  Precious antiquities!  Beauty beyond compare!  Come, come!" he said, getting up and motioning me to join him.  
"But this is perfect." I said quietly, looking up at him.  "That's the one I want."  
"This trifle is not suitable.  It is a piece made by an apprentice smith." he said, trying desperately to dissuade me from the one I had chosen and entreat me to buy more expensive options.  
"No." I said firmly, the ring still firmly in my grip.  I pulled coins from the purse at my belt and dropped them on the table.  "There is ten gold, my friend.  It is all I have on me.  Now, your friend here can beat me up, search all my pockets and belongings, but he will find no other money on me.  It is a more than fair price for a ring such as this.  I want this one, not another.  This one.  Now you are a smart man and have already sized me up.  You can tell I will not lie.  It is more than likely you know who I am, too."

Those words hung heavy in the air.  From the moment I had entered the building, he had known and I knew it.  This was someone used to dealing with his wits, not brawn, else he wouldn't have need for the muscled fighter who stood sentry.  I did not have experience of bartering, nor threats, nor entreatments, but as I stood firm there, the jeweller saw fit to nod slowly.

"I expect I shall have further business of you, _Warden_ , should the need arise." he said with a knowing smile.

Feeling the weight of pressure, I nodded briefly and ducked out of the shop.  I hated bartering.  My palms became clammy and my throat started to feel tight.  However, there was no way I was leaving without this ring.  My fist was still clutching it when I arrived back at Arl Eamon's estate.  My chest seemed fit to burst as I stormed up the stairs to our chambers, brutally ignoring all that I passed.  I needed to hide this somewhere safe.  Luckily, as I pushed the door open, I saw that she wasn't there.  Panic set in as I looked about the room and realised there was nowhere for me to hide this most precious of things.   _Gaargggghh!_  I screamed internally.  There were no loose bricks to wheedle out, no drawers with secret compartments, or paintings to hide secret safes.  Nope, I was going to have to do this by myself.  I found a small piece of cloth that I wrapped it in and hid it under the mattress.

Now, how and when to do it?  Well that was a decision that would wait until after the Landsmeet.  With a shudder I thought about what could possibly happen.  No, I could not make myself sick with worry.  I focused instead on that precious parcel that lay under our mattress. And the love I felt for my Mia.  

Oh Maker, how I hoped she would say yes.


	18. In the golden light of evening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've written this and posted it without editing. That will come tomorrow. Hope you enjoy anyway!

Numb? No. Anything but.  
Happy? Possibly.  
Confused? Maybe.  
  
There had been so much that had happened today, of monumental importance, that my emotions were shot. If I stopped to think about what had happened in the space of even an hour, my mind would wither, pool inside my head and slowly trickle out of my ears. But I had to. As I stomped down the corridor of the Arl’s estate, having just returned from the Landsmeet, I forced myself to at least list what had happened.  
  
First and foremost, Loghain was dead. With a silver slice through the air, Alistair had severed the link between brain and body. No protestations, screamings, pleadings from Anora would save him. _Could_ save him. As soon as he had entered that hall, radiant in his arrogance and iridescent metal, his fate had been sealed. There was no way that anyone other than Alistair could have done it, aside from me. I knew how much it meant to him, to deliver the killing blow. The ghosts of Duncan and Cailan, and the countless Grey Wardens, men, women and military beasts that had falled at Ostagar after his betrayal, floated around his eyes. The pain, so replete with its piercing, had pushed its way up from where he had stored it and I saw the tears. Not of mercy, but of relief that it was done. Finally.  
  
Next, Alistair was now King of Ferelden. I was certainly worried for him – I didn’t even bother lying to myself. Worried that now the power players of the Ferelden Court would be weaving their webs around him, that who he was would change. The physical man would still be there but would his essence … shift? Over time, would their constant influence and ‘advice’ push him towards a path he wouldn’t have forged by himself. _No_ , I told myself, _that man will always be the same. In essence, in heart, and in soul._ I smiled to myself as I slowed a little. That was the next thing.  
  
I was getting married to Alistair Theirin.  
  
Yes, that didn’t go as I’d expected. Eamonn had forced me into a decision when I hadn’t expected to decide on that. That deceptive bitch who had styled herself Queen had made a play for the throne and I knew that if I didn’t say anything, the machinations of the Court would have had her marrying Alistair. ‘To embed the monarchy’, or ‘she knows the games’, or ‘you’re the Warden Commander’. The simple answer was that I couldn’t stand the thought of him being with anyone else, ever. It wouldn’t have mattered if it was a simple matter of a contractual marriage of convenience, but if anyone was to marry that wonderful man then it would be me.  
  
I do remember a flash of worry cross his face though when I announced it to the Landsmeet. I hadn’t actually been able to check with him first that it was what he wanted. I like to think it was. At least, I hope it was. I’m pretty sure it was? That would have to wait. Right now, before I saw him and he would tell me it was all a misunderstanding and he did, in fact, have to marry Anora, then I would revel in the fact that I was engaged to the man that I loved beyond hope. My cheeks hurt from where my mouth stretched wide in a smile. Joy threatened to make me dizzy but I steeled myself against wilting and fainting over a man. Maybe this man could make me crazy but I wasn’t going to faint. Yet.  
  
The door that held my friends from me was a couple of paces away. With an ecstatic surge that could only come from accomplishing jobs with great style, I shoved the door open and strode in. Cheers were rebounding off the walls and people were crushing my hand before the door had swung shut.  
  
“Congratulations, my friend!” Wynne said proudly, before Leliana interjected with “This is wonderful news!” and a bright smile.  
“And Loghain was most stylishly despatched. I must salute the would-be King when I next see him.” Zevran exclaimed from just off my left shoulder.  
  
Oghren pushed a bottle of something toxic into my hand and clinked his own glass against it with a hearty chortle. Sten tipped his head towards mine from the perimeter of the room but for him, he might as well have hugged me. Morrigan kept the shadows company as usual but I could see that she smiled when I caught her eye. It was warm and genuine and I had no reason to doubt that she meant it.  
  
The door announced a new visitor to the room.  
  
“So, strange story,” a sudden voice said from behind me, “tell me if you’ve heard this one. This fella gets made King and then gets engaged – all on the same night.”  
  
I wheeled round to see Alistair standing there in his Grey Warden armour. It was obvious that he too had come straight from the Landsmeet. However, Eamonn and others had tried to bend his ear already which meant a slight delay. His eyes didn’t waver from mine. I could see them clearly and they shone, like all the clouds had suddenly dispersed and the sun from inside his heart was bursting through.  
  
“Yes, about that …” I grinned, more than a little nervous given his reaction at the Landsmeet but bolstered by his face now.  
“I’m actually fine with becoming King.” he shrugged. “I’ve had some time to come to terms with the idea. I suppose there’s some good I could even do! I suppose I’m more curious about, y’know, the engagement.”  
  
I didn't know how to react but a sudden fear had gripped me. Was this the fleeting look that I had seen from the dais? Was it about to come out now that he thought it was a terrible plan?  
  
"May I borrow you for a moment?" he asked nervously.  
  
Mutely, I nodded. Obviously he didn't want to break my heart in front of our troupe. I would allow him that. It was very gentlemanly, after all, and so very Alistair. He stepped back slightly as I moved to go past him. My knees were weak and my palms sweaty. This wasn’t like me, at all.  
  
He led me through to our room where he made me shut my eyes. _Curious_ , I mused. Clanging from across the room make me jump a little and I recognised the sound of armour being dropped on the floor in a hurry. Usually it was because I was naked and waiting for him but this time I stood by the door, with my eyes closed. _How very curious_ , I further pondered, allowing myself a tiny glimmer of hope. Surely he would have leapt right into his annihilation of my plan when we set foot through the door. He was a nervous bumbler and would just launch into something without thinking. This was taking planning and that was putting me on edge, but in a good way.  
  
“Am I allowed to open my eyes now?” I asked quietly.  
“No. Not even a peek.” Some rustling from near the bed and then I felt his hand in mine. Gently he led me back into the corridor. “Keep them shut until I tell you you can open them. Please?”  
“Of course.”

Very carefully, he led me through the castle; up stairs, through doors, along corridors – all the while tenderly holding my hand and making sure I wouldn’t bump into anything. And all the while, still blind.

Eventually though, we stopped. A draft of air swirled around my feet and I felt a slight chill sweep across my skin. Keys made sounds in lock and a wooden clunk preceded the squeak of an unoiled doorhinge. The evening air of Denerim swept across my face. I could hear the toils of the city but they were below me.

Gingerly, Alistair pulled me forward a touch before two warm lips met mine in a soft kiss. Even with my eyes closed, I could tell he was smiling.

“Okay, you can open them now.” he instructed, the grin resonating throughout his voice.

Immediately I saw we were on top of the highest tower in the whole of Arl Eamonn’s estate. I could see everything for a glorious sunset was casting golden light over the rooftops of Denerim. Even Fort Drakon shone with wonder.

“So, Mia …” he started without waiting, immediately nervous. “Oh Maker, how do I do this? _Where is it?_ ” came the quiet mutters as fast hands searched his pockets. “ _Thank you, Andraste._ Right, Mia, back with you. Right … okay … urm …”

Alistair suddenly looked as if he was going to faint and fall over the parapet. One of his hands was hidden behind his back and he kept glancing up at me like he was about to be strangled.

“Are you okay?” I asked. Silently he nodded back as he swallowed against a dry throat.  
“Apparently I have just been given all of this.” he said, as he turned to look out over the city. From the high tower we could see to the country beyond. “Maker, I have, haven’t I?” he told himself. “Anyway, this is all mine, but only because of you. I have been given everything that I ever wanted today. Duncan can rest easy in whatever great hall he now resides within. Our brethren from Ostagar have been avenged. This wonderful country has a new ruler, for good or for bad, but all that pales into comparison besides that tiny, tiny detail that you also threw into the mix – that you would marry me.”

My heart was pounding and I was barely able to get my words out. Was this what I thought it might be? He held the hand out that had been behind his back to reveal a small bag of black velvet.

“I bought this ring earlier today before you told the Landsmeet your plans. I knew I wanted to be with you much earlier than that but today I needed to know that you would always be with me; here, in Denerim. You have been the one person who has stood by me, and now has told the supposedly important people in the land that you want to spend the rest of your life with me. Me! Little old Alistair Theirin from Redcliffe, that used to run around scrumping apples and jumping in the lake wearing ripped clothes.”  
“Your background doesn’t matter to me.” my small voice quivered through a thick throat. “It never has.”

Alistair smiled at that. A broad and proud smile.

“I think this is what I do?” he asked as he dropped to one knee.

IT WAS! My toes danced and I could barely keep still. He was about to propose!? All my skin felt like it was on fire! He pulled a ring out of the bag and reached for my hand. His amber eyes burned in the dying light of the day.

“I was never meant to be one of the knights in the bardic tales. I was never meant to go having grand adventures. However, meeting you has been the best thing that has ever happened to me. I would love it if we carried on our adventures together. For all of our days. Mia Grace Eleanor Cousland, will you marry me? Please?”

By now, I could barely see through the tears and they broke as my cheeks smiled beyond what I thought was possible. As I nodded, they fell down my face. My heart was thudding my acceptance and I croaked out a yes before a small laugh escaped my mouth. With a smile to match my own, he slipped a small band of metal onto my finger and stood swiftly to kiss me. We stood for untold moments, embracing and kissing, staring at each other and at the ring that had solidified our promise to each other.

There, in the golden light of a Denerim evening, the King-to-be of all Ferelden, the Grey Warden that was about to save the world from an Archdemon, promised to become _my_ Alistair.

Nothing more grand than that, but perhaps the grandest thing of all.


End file.
